Lady Bella
by dqwhit19
Summary: My name is Isabella Swan, but to the rest of the world, I am Lady Bella." This is the story of how an international pop star and an extremely attractive USC quarterback find love, despite everything that tries to keep them apart. AH
1. Poker Face

Poker Face- Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and her weird costumes. I own the rest of this.

BPOV

I pulled my Seattle Mariners ball cap lower on my head, shrugged my shoulders forward to seem smaller, and reluctantly slid my giant black sunglasses off. Only Jack Nicholson and douche bags wore sunglasses inside; I would just have to hope nobody could see too much of my face.

I slid into the corner seat of the last row of the big classroom, thankful I was still in my gen eds so my classes had tons of people in them. When I began taking major classes, they would be smaller, but I'd just have to cross that bridge when I got to it. Which, if my manager and label had their way, would be a long ass time from now. I was only taking one class a semester as it was.

I pulled a notebook and pen from my huge tote bag to take notes. It had been hard to leave my beautiful black Birkin bag at home, but those things cost a fortune and someone was sure to notice and ask questions about where I got it.

I was trying to avoid questions.

Class was about to start, and I was glad nobody was sitting next to me. I was confident no one would recognize me- when I performed or was out in public, I got into character and looked so different- but it was easier to just avoid people altogether. The last thing I needed was for somebody to recognize me and tip off the paparazzi. I'd have to quit school then, and I really didn't want to do that. Just because I had a successful career didn't mean I didn't want my education.

My name is Isabella Swan, but to the rest of the world, I am Lady Bella.

My success was a surprise to even me. At least, the speed of it was. I'd always known I was going places, and had been working since I was fourteen on my first album. I'd left home, podunkville Forks, WA, after getting my GED early and I'd gone to New York City, where I'd waited tables during the day and wrote songs and worked the club scene at night. On my rare days off, I worked on my look, searching for interesting accessories and practicing different makeup techniques. I couldn't do open mic nights- that wasn't the kind of music I did- but I could sure as hell make sure every DJ in New York knew my name. It took awhile, but eventually I got some cred. I began playing my songs for the DJs, and occasionally they would play them if I was in the house.

Then, it seemed like overnight, my first single blew up. It turned out, one night, a prominent NYC radio personality was scoping out the club I was at, and my good friend DJ Jazz had played my song, and the radio guy had loved it. He began playing it instantly, and it spread, and the next thing I knew, everyone was asking for my demo.

It was a whirlwind after that. I signed with a label, I appeared on several early morning and late night talk shows, and began performing at smaller concerts. I released two more songs, and they got played constantly too. My debut album, the one I'd worked on forever, went double platinum.

The only way I kept my sanity was by sticking with the character. It had been Jazz's idea to create one, since he'd come to my apartment once and seen my sketches. I'd been playing with the idea of creating an alter ego for awhile, and he'd loved the idea. Thus Lady Bella was created.

I was short, small, with mousy brown hair and boring brown eyes. My skin was so-so, my face was so-so, and I had absolutely no ass.

Lady Bella, on the other hand, was larger than life. She had platinum blonde hair cut in a bob with severe bangs, sparkling amber eyes, wore tons of makeup, and usually improvised her outfits on the spot. Sometimes she was a miss, but more often than not, she made it on the "Fashion Visionary" lists.

It was refreshing to be able to let loose with Lady Bella. When I was in character, I could speak my mind and be a strong, confident woman. And before you go all psycho-babble on me, I realize it's a defense mechanism. I know it's the mask that lets me do things I'd normally never do, and I like it that way.

But being Lady Bella became tiring after awhile. There were days I loved my career, and I always adored my fans, but there were definitely times I wished I could just go out with the girls and chill. Ever since US Weekly had printed a few pictures of me from my normal life, people could recognize me even out of costume. Not as many, but enough to disrupt things. But it's not like I had "girls" to go out with anyway; my only close girl friend was my manager Rosalie Hale.

And that's why I decided to take a break and take a few classes at USC. I'd always wanted a degree in photography, and it was nice to have something separate from Lady Bella.

Class started, and the professor passed out the syllabus. This was the intro to mass communication class, one of the classes everyone has to take, and I wasn't too interested in the subject matter. I wished fervently I could make a friend in the class, to share notes with when I missed and study for exams with, even to pass notes with when class got boring. But that was too much of a risk- I couldn't let anybody know who I really was. It was awkward enough talking to the professor, explaining why I'd be missing a few classes and to remind him of his teacher-student confidentiality requirements.

The professor was halfway through the syllabus when someone slid into the seat next to me. I immediately tensed up, scooting over in my seat closer to the wall. This turned out to be a futile gesture because the guy leaned over into my personal space and whispered, "Have I missed much?"

I looked at him, face so close to mine, and nearly had a heart attack.

This guy was gorgeous.

Like, prettier than me, gorgeous. Maybe even prettier than Rose, and she'd hate that.

His face looked like it had been carved from marble, all hard edges and strong bones. But his eyes, his beautiful apple green eyes, were soft and welcoming. His lips also looked soft, and I instantly wondered how weird it would be if I just leaned forward and tasted them…

"So, did I miss a lot or what?"

I blinked and realized he was waiting for an answer. "Well, he's already halfway done with the syllabus."

Gorgeous Guy shrugged and leaned back into his chair, taking his yummy vanilla scent with him. "I'll just get that after he's done, then."

My eyes widened as I looked back towards the front. This guy was definitely sure of himself. Sure, syllabi were usually straightforward, but sometimes professors gave little hints about where to look for books or important comments about exams when going over them. I tried to listen to every word on the first day of class, to try and get a feel for how strict or laid back the professor would be.

The professor kept talking, and even though I knew I should be listening, I kept sneaking sideways glances at Gorgeous Guy and wondering about him. His profile was almost as nice as the front, since from the side I could see the line of his strong jaw. Mmm, and his cute ear, under which was a tiny little freckle that I wanted to suck on…

God, I had to snap out of it. I mean, it's not like I don't see extremely good looking guys on a regular basis- I was a pop star, for Christ sake! I had guys around me constantly!

I also had no business daydreaming about a guy that I could never do anything with. First, I really had no time for a guy, what with performing, writing songs, designing outfits, and taking this class. Second, I couldn't form any kind of relationship with someone at this school, because that would be taking a huge chance that they wouldn't sell me out at some point. When you get to the level I'm at, you become very wary of practically everybody. It's kinda sad, really.

Almost as sad as the fact that that wariness meant my lady parts hadn't seen action in so long, bats were liable to fly out at any moment.

Third, and not the least concern, I was positive this guy had them lining up around the block. He was just too hot. I couldn't tell much about his body, but I'm sure it matched the perfection of his face. He was obviously confident, which I always liked in a guy, and which he probably got from being able to snap his fingers and get any piece he wanted. All of whom I probably couldn't compete with. Outside of my costume, I was just a regular plain Jane who nobody looked twice at.

This made me inexplicably sad all of a sudden.

Everyone began getting up and gathering their things, and the sudden noise made me jump. I'd missed the rest of the syllabus! Shit!

"I'm going to go get the syllabus. Did he say anything important at the beginning of class?" Gorgeous Guy asked, still in his seat.

I looked at him, and swooned again. My reaction time got better, though. "He said he can't handle tardiness."

GG smiled broadly. "Hmm, maybe I shouldn't admit I was late, then. Can I just copy yours?"

"How?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Well, they invented these magical machines called 'copiers.' You put a little piece of paper under the lid, press a button, and an exact copy comes zooming out. It's really revolutionized things in the paper world."

I bit back a smirk. "I mean, how are you going to do that? I need my syllabus."

"Well, I have to show my coaches that I went to class and got one today. So why don't we go find the nearest copy machine, copy it, and you can be on your way? It'll take five minutes, tops."

I wanted to help him- I was a nice person, after all. But I couldn't risk spending time with somebody like that. The longer I spoke to him, the more likely it was he'd recognize me.

Then he smiled at me, this beautiful crooked smile that showed off his nice white teeth, and I found myself nodding. "Okay."

He smiled wider and stood up, grabbing his bag. "Let's roll, then."

I grabbed my tote and stood, careful to pull my hat down on my face. We left the classroom, and the second we were outside, I slid my bug-eye sunglasses on.

"Wow, your whole face is covered now. It's not that bright out," GG commented idly.

I gave him a tight smile. "I have sensitive skin."

He winked at me. "Well, it's pretty."

I blushed- something I haven't done in quite some time- and smiled wider. Then I noticed how many people were watching our trek across campus, and immediately frowned. How did they notice me? I thought my whole face was covered. I didn't even look remotely like Lady Bella today- I was wearing a simple t-shirt and jean shorts. Lady Bella wouldn't be caught dead like that.

I was looking around, panicked, when I saw GG nod to one of the gapers that we passed. "You know him?" I asked.

GG shrugged and kept walking. "No."

"Then why did you nod?"

"Everybody looks at me. That's the unfortunate side effect of my position."

I frowned again. His position? What did that mean?

People continued gaping, mostly of the female gender, and I finally realized that yes, they were looking at him, rather than me. I felt relief and confusion all at once. Nobody had recognized me, but they seemed to all know who _he_ was.

"What's your name, anyway?" I asked.

He grimaced. "Edward Cullen."

Ah. And there it is.

Of course everyone on campus knew who he was. God, I was barely ever here and _I_ knew who he was. Practically everybody in the United States, if they ever caught even a second of SportsCenter, knew who he was.

Edward Cullen, USC's starting quarterback and front-runner for this year's Heisman race.

"I wondered when you'd ask," he said, sounding resigned.

"I had no idea what you looked like," I replied. If I'd known _the_ Edward Cullen was so blazing hot, I would've sought him out as Lady Bella awhile ago. She could get any guy she wanted, and I'm sure Rosalie could have figured out a way to wrangle a meeting with him. Lady Bella had performed in their stadium just last spring, after all.

Then I smiled resignedly to myself. Of course I would never have done that. Even as Lady Bella. I was too chicken shit to ever put myself out there like that. Especially to a guy as completely gorgeous as Edward Cullen.

"Really? Do you live under a rock?" That could have sounded arrogant, but he made it sound sad. Like he really hated all the attention.

"Something like that," I muttered.

During our conversation, I noticed we were getting further from the main part of campus. "Where are we going?" I asked, nervously.

"Well, why pay for copies when I can get them free at the athletic center?"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought this was going to take less than five minutes."

GG- I mean, Edward- smiled at me. "Are you complaining about the company?"

I blushed again, and kept my dignity by not answering. If I were truthful, the answer would be a resounding NO.

We walked into the athletic center, and about sixteen people said hi to Edward. Most of them were skimpily dressed interns or secretaries or something, obvious football groupies, and I found myself hoping that Edward hadn't touched a single one. Besides the clear risk of Chlamydia, I wanted him to be better than that.

Edward led me back into what was clearly a coach's office. "Are we allowed in here?" I asked timidly.

He laughed. "Of course. One of the benefits of my position." He held his hand out for the syllabus, plopped it down, and pushed copy.

"So I guess there are pros and cons, then," I said.

"Same as everything else, I suppose," he replied. I was becoming increasingly impressed with him. He definitely didn't seem like the typical college quarterback.

"Cullen! What the fuck is up, dude?" someone boomed from the doorway to the office. I turned and saw a giant, grinning at us, muscles popping out from every surface of his skin.

Edward smiled back and gave him a fist bump. "Nothing much, McCarty. Just making a copy so this fine lady may be on her way," he said, winking at me.

McCarty looked me up and down. "Does this fine lady have a name?" he asked, clearly slipping into seduction mode. I tried hard not to laugh- I never thought Schwarzenegger was very attractive- and looked him in the eye. "Isab- Izzy. Izzy Swan," I shortened. Less chance of him catching it on Google.

"Well, Izzy Swan, how _you _doing today?"

This time I had to laugh. "Are you breaking out the Joey Tribbiani on me?"

Edward chuckled while McCarty blushed. "Is it working?"

"I don't date," I said, shaking my head.

"What? Who said anything about dating?" McCarty asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Come on, Em, don't be disgusting," Edward said, handing me back my syllabus. "Thanks, Izzy." He smiled at me and my insides danced a little. Jeez.

"No problem," I replied, and turned to go.

"You know how to get out of here?"

"I'll escort her," McCarty said gallantly, and held out his arm. I laughed and took it.

"Watch out, Izzy," Edward warned with a grin.

"I'm sure I can handle it." McCarty led me out to the front of the building, saying hi to a couple of the girls as we left. He was obviously a football player, too, but not as popular as Edward was. "What position do you play?" I asked.

"Offensive line. Do you know what that is?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I can figure that one out."

"Well, most girls that hang around here don't know offense from defense, so I was just making sure," he said.

"Whoa, wait a second. I wasn't _'hanging around here.'_ I was helping Edward out since he didn't want to make a bad first impression on our professor," I said forcefully.

McCarty chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Izzy Swan. I didn't catch you staring at Cullen or anything." He winked at me, grinning with his big dimples.

I sputtered. "I was not staring at him!"

"Hey, it's ok. Cullen is definitely a popular man with the ladies. I don't get it, not with me around, anyway, but a fact is a fact. Just don't get your hopes up or anything."

I grimaced. "Believe me, I don't have hopes for anything like that."

"Well, I hope to see you around, Izzy Swan," McCarty said, waving as he turned to go back inside. I waved back, slowly, and turned around to find my car in the humongous parking lot.

As I walked, I thought about Edward and what McCarty had said. Yeah, Edward was an attractive guy. Add his obvious football prowess, and I wasn't surprised he had girls flocking to him like bees to honey. He'd seemed like a pretty nice guy, too.

God, I must be terribly horny. That's the only reason I can figure why I couldn't just let it go. Rosalie would be so happy for me- she's been claiming I needed to get laid for awhile now- but I certainly couldn't go for Edward Cullen. He'd figure out somehow and my cover would be blown. I just needed to go home and practice some self love like usual. It had been too long since quality time with my Buzzy.

I got to my car, my awesome old red truck that had been my dad's, and got in. There was a melody playing in my head, and I really needed to get home and get it down before I lost it.

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So…. What do we think? I'm going to post the second chapter shortly, to give you a feel for how this will go. I'm thinking a pretty short (12-13 chapters) simple love story. Anybody still like those?


	2. Brown Eyes

Brown Eyes- Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.

EPOV

I was sitting in the locker room, undressing after the day's practice, when I felt McCarty come up behind me. It was hard for him to sneak up- the earth practically rumbled as he walked- but I knew he was going for a surprise attack. And I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

"No, I'm not dating her," I said, without turning around.

"How do you know that's what I was going to ask?" he asked.

I turned to face him after whipping off my sweaty undershirt. "Because you're so easy to read, it's like I can read minds. You were shooting me looks the entire time we were in the office."

"Well, she's smoking!" Emmett exclaimed. "If you don't want to hit that, please, let me know so I can come up with a game plan."

I shook my head at him. "She's just a girl from my class. I have no intentions on 'hitting that,' as you so charmingly put it. Besides, how could you even tell? She was practically hidden beneath that hat."

Emmett grinned. "Yeah, but did you check out that body? She definitely works out."

"We live in Southern California, Em. Everybody works out."

"Whatever. You just lost your dibs," he said, and turned to go to the showers.

I turned back to my locker and sat down on the bench to take off my cleats. Yeah, I'd noticed Izzy's body. I was a guy, after all. And despite what I'd told Emmett, I'd seen her face- and she was very pretty. She had the warmest chocolate brown eyes, a cute little button nose with a sprinkling of freckles, and the sexiest lips since Angelina. I just didn't want Emmett to think I wanted her. The last thing I needed right now was a girlfriend. The season was about to start, and I had to focus if I wanted our team to do well.

There was a lot riding on my shoulders this season. I was a senior, the starting quarterback, and there was already talk about national championships and the Heisman trophy. I tried to ignore the hype, but it was hard not to notice when it was on ESPN every five minutes. I could see the look in all my fellow players' eyes- they were depending on me. I couldn't let them down just because I let a pretty girl with beautiful brown eyes get under my skin. If Emmett wanted to spend his limited free time chasing her, more luck to him.

My stomach clenched painfully, but I let it slide without questioning it and went into the showers.

The next afternoon, I was sitting in the athletic center's study hall doing mandatory study time. They were serious about our grades- the last thing Coach needed was somebody to fail or get put on academic probation and then couldn't play.

I felt a soft hand with long nails run across the back of my neck. "Hey, baby," someone cooed in my ear.

"Hey, Jessica," I said, annoyed, never taking my eyes off the calculus in front of me. I could smell her designer impostor perfume from a mile away.

"When are we going out again? I miss you." She came and sat down next to me, trailing her hooker fingers down my arm and bathing the air around me in her scent. I fought not to shudder. _This is your own fault, you shouldn't have slept with her, this is your own fault…_

"I'm busy, Jess," I said, trying to remain polite.

"It doesn't have to take long," Jessica purred seductively. I shivered, disgusted, unable to hold it back, and she took it completely the wrong way. "See, you miss me, too. I know exactly how to touch my Eddie."

I slammed my textbook closed. "My name is Edward." I stood up and threw all my stuff in my bag.

She stood quickly, too. "I know that. I know that! I just wanted to have a nickname for you, one that was secret to us." She ran her hand down my arm again, a pleading, desperate look in her eye.

I sighed. That right there was what got me in trouble in the first place. She had a pout that could call up my guilt complex like none other except my mom, and it had successfully gotten me to go out with her, take her to bed, and even take her out again. I usually didn't do that, but it was hard to avoid her and her pout when she was a tutor in the very room I was required to be in fifteen hours a week.

"I don't like nicknames," I deadpanned, trying to avoid looking at her. "I have to go."

"Call me!" Jessica yelled after me as I stomped out of the study hall. God, she was pathetic. It made my skin crawl to think I'd stooped so low as to have sex with her. Then I compounded that mistake by letting her suck my dick another time, and then she became psycho about me because she knew I didn't take girls out more than once. She thought she was special.

As soon as I thought the word, a certain hidden face with brown eyes flitted into my mind. I shook my head to rid myself of the image.

I left the athletic center and walked next door to the weight room. I really needed to let off some steam before practice today, and I always did my best thinking while lifting weights.

I threw my bag into my locker, changed into my practice clothes, and went out into the weight room. I headed straight for the free weights and sat in front of the huge mirror to do bicep curls, my personal favorite work out.

"Cullen! My man!" I heard Em boom behind me. I should have known he'd be here, he practically lived in the weight room.

"McCarty," I mumbled back, trying to focus on my curls.

He came and sat down on the bench next to me, an incredibly sweaty towel wrapped around his massive neck. "How's it going?"

"Trying to escape Stanley," I grimaced.

Emmett laughed loudly. "I know how that goes. Have you seen my girl today?"

"Which one?"

"Oh, come on, Cullen! You know exactly who I'm talking about! My girl Izzy!"

I stopped curling and gave him a look. "Since when does Emmett McCarty only have one girl?"

He grinned and placed a meaty hand over his heart cheesily. "Since my heart was stolen by a pretty little thing with big brown eyes."

My stomach clenched again, and I recognized the feeling this time.

It was jealousy.

Those were _my_ brown eyes. I didn't want anything to do with her, I didn't need to have anything to do with her, but I didn't want Emmett or any other guy to see her eyes like I did. Even though we only talked for minutes, and I saw her eyes even less than that, I'd felt like I could read her soul through them. They were warm, and kind, but lonely as well. I'd really felt a connection with those eyes.

I snorted at myself and began curling again. "No, we only have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Well, make sure you give her a big hug from me tomorrow."

I was about to respond when I heard one of the coaches yell from the doorway, "Cullen! Come back into the office!"

Emmett gave me a look. "What did you do?"

I frowned and put back the weights. "I have no idea." I shrugged at him and followed the coach, our offensive coordinator, back to the office where the coaches always sat players down for serious talks. My mind raced with possibilities, but I came up empty. I'd been to study hall, I'd gone to every one of my classes so far, and I was obviously putting my time in in the weight room.

Coach Carroll and a couple of the other offensive coordinators were sitting on one side of the table, and he gestured for me to take a seat opposite them. "Have a seat, Cullen."

I sat down and looked them in the eye. I had nothing to be afraid of.

"Listen, I really hate to do this to you, but frankly, any publicity is good publicity," Coach Carroll began. "We've had a request from ESPN U to follow you for a couple of weeks, filming you at practice, during games, and around campus, for a piece on your quest for the Heisman."

"I'm not on a quest for the Heisman."

"We know that, Edward. But everybody else seems to think so, and it wouldn't hurt to play along."

I sighed heavily. "I really don't like this."

"I know, son, and like I said, I hate to put you in this position. But this is great PR for the school and our program, and we need to get our name out there. We've got to be thinking about next year, when you go into the draft."

I sat silent, thinking. Everyone expected me to leave school after my junior year and go into the draft, and I was seriously thinking about it (with that kind of money, who wouldn't be?), but it bothered me a little to think I wouldn't be finishing my education. My parents were pretty serious about me graduating, and I hated to disappoint them. Besides, I could only play for so long, and I didn't want to just sit around on my ass after I retired or, God forbid, I got hurt.

But Coach Carroll was right, I had to prepare for life after this season, whatever I decided. And if I did leave, they would need to find a good replacement for me, and this would be good advertising for the program. It also couldn't hurt in getting a human interest story of the real me out there, besides what people made up. Look what it did for Colt McCoy when he saved that drowning guy! I really didn't want that kind of invasion into my privacy, but that's what happens when you sign up to be starting quarterback, like I'd told Izzy.

I sighed again. "They wouldn't be here the whole time, right?"

"No, no. They'd come out maybe five or six times, maybe more if they don't get what they want. But the only time you'll really need to interact with them is for a few interviews and the day they follow you around to your classes," Coach Carroll assured me.

"I guess I'll do it. But let's keep it low key, okay? I already get enough from the guys."

The coaches laughed. "Yeah, we saw that article on you in the LA Times," the offensive coordinator said. I groaned- it was a piece on the "Hot Guys of California Football," and though I hadn't talked to the reporter, she'd spoken with plenty of girls on campus who swore they'd slept with me. I'd recognized a couple of the names, but there were a good five or six more I'd never heard of. Basically, I looked like a damn man whore. It wouldn't have been so bad if I weren't the only guy from USC mentioned, but every other guy in the piece was from UCLA, Stanford, or Cal.

"That's all, Cullen. We're working on running plays today, so you and your arm can take it easy."

I nodded and stood. They continued to talk in low voices about the upcoming practice as I left the office, and I was somewhat disappointed I wouldn't get to throw any passes today. I needed the distraction.

The next day, I walked into Intro to Mass Communication and saw Izzy sitting there in the back row. I slid into the seat next to her, leaned over and caught a delicious whiff of strawberries, and said, "Hi."

She jumped, almost clocking me with her shoulder. "Gosh! You surprised me!"

I chuckled and leaned back in my seat. "'Gosh?' Man, you really busted out the big guns there."

Izzy frowned at me. "I'm sure you've heard worse on the football field."

I sighed. She had the same look on her face that she did yesterday, when she'd found out who I was- apprehension. That's why I had put off introducing myself. "How about we talk about something else?"

"You mean you don't like talking about football?" she asked skeptically.

"I don't like talking about football with pretty ladies," I said, and was rewarded by a beautiful blush. "What's your major?"

"Photography."

"Favorite color?"

She gave me a look, but answered anyway. "Green."

"What kind of music do you like?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and I was confused. Before she could say anything, though, the professor walked in and immediately began lecturing. Izzy turned to her notebook pointedly and began taking notes.

I tried to get her attention throughout class, but she was having none of it. I finally gave up and took notes myself, though not nearly as many as she. It looked like she was trying to write a book on the subject, with all the pages she filled up.

When class was dismissed, I stayed seated, forcing her to either climb over me or stay seated as well. "Are you getting up?" she asked, after she'd packed her bag.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I just don't like to talk during class."

"What's your favorite kind of music, then?" I repeated.

She tried to stand, but I was still blocking her. "Why won't you answer me?" I asked, concerned. Was she afraid I'd make fun of her? I didn't care, I was just trying to get to know her.

_Why are you trying to get to know her? You have too much on your plate already. You told Emmett he could have her._

_ Yeah, but I want her._

Before I could register surprise at my own inner dialogue, Izzy huffed and looked me fully in the face for the first time today. "Look, Edward, I'm sure you're a nice guy. But it's better if we're not friends."

I furrowed my brow in consternation. "Why?"

"Just believe me, okay? You're better off staying away from me." She tried to walk around me again, but I stuck my feet out. "Argh! Come on, Edward! Let me leave!"

"No. Not until you tell me what the hell you're talking about. I was just trying to be friendly, getting to know you."

"I don't have friends," Izzy said quietly.

"What? Everyone has friends."

"Well, I don't. I don't have the need or the time."

I looked at her- really looked at her- and read the loneliness in her eyes. Why was she lying to me? "We're friends, Izzy. I'm your friend." I couldn't promise her anything more- I had too much riding on me already- but I couldn't let her go, either. I didn't know why, but I knew it was the truth.

She shook her head, her brown hair flying around her face. She'd left it down, under a pageboy cap, and I liked it. "Really, you're not. We can talk in class, but that has to be it. Believe me, it's for the best."

I stood, and she looked relieved at the thought I was letting it go. Before she could shove past me, though, I placed myself directly in front of her, forcing her to look up at me. I nearly drowned in her big brown eyes, but I remained firm. "This conversation isn't over, Izzy."

She gulped, looked away, and went around me. I turned to watch her go, and didn't miss the sad set of her shoulders, or the way she hurried so I couldn't see her eyes. She knew I could read them.


	3. Just Dance

Just Dance- Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.

BPOV

I walked into class the following Tuesday, my stomach in knots. I hadn't forgotten my conversation with Edward last week- in fact, it had been all I was able to think about all weekend. That, and his beautiful green eyes, and his sexy hair, and his toned body…

There I go again.

I slid into my seat and shook my long brown hair around my face to better cover it. I was so sick of wearing it up, in hats and under the Lady Bella wig, that I'd taken a chance and wore it down, without anything covering it. I didn't have the hat to cover my face, but my hair was long enough that I could manage it if I was careful.

The only problem with curtain hair was, I didn't know Edward was approaching until he was practically on top of me.

"Izzy," he breathed in my ear, tickling me.

"Edward," I said, slapping at my ear to make him go away.

"How was your weekend?"

I sighed and pulled out my notebook so I wouldn't have to look at him. Looking at him was always my downfall. "Fine."

"Aren't you going to ask about my game on Saturday?"

"I thought you didn't like to talk about football," I replied. The truth was, I had watched the game, for the first time in my life. Rosalie was shocked, needless to say, as well as pissed that I wanted to watch "idiots throwing around a skinned pig" rather than work on my second album.

"I'm just trying to find anything you'll talk about. Last week, you obviously didn't like answering personal questions, so I thought I'd start with something more general," he said matter-of-factly.

I finally turned to look at him, but kept my eyes trained carefully on his lips. They were distracting enough, especially when he licked them, but this way he couldn't work his eye voodoo on me and make me spill all my secrets. "Edward, I thought I was clear when I said we couldn't be friends."

"You were. You also said, clearly, that we could talk in class. This is us, talking in class." He grinned, and since I was staring at his mouth, the full force hit me. God, he was beautiful. "It would help if you were looking at me, though."

"I am looking at you," I said absentmindedly, still ogling the shine of his lips now that he'd wet them. I realized what I was doing and rolled my eyes. Now he had lip voodoo!

He reached out and gently lifted my chin with his finger until I was looking him in the eye. "Now you are." I stared, entranced by those damned emerald eyes, and he stared back, like he was looking for something that was hidden in my eyes. I couldn't blink, and I couldn't look away.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the professor walked in and began speaking. I quickly turned to my notebook and tried to focus enough to write down what the professor was saying, but I was still dazed by his eyes. And lips. And smell, to be honest.

"Can we get some coffee after class?" he whispered in my ear, making me shiver.

"No," I hissed back, regaining my focus now that I wasn't looking at him.

"My treat. Please?"

I nearly snorted. Like the price of a cup of coffee was what was holding me back. "No."

"We can talk about the upcoming project," he wheedled.

I paused. Now that I was paying attention, I realized that yes, the professor was talking about some project that the class was supposed to pair up and work on for the next couple of weeks. Each pair would turn in something every Thursday until midterms, when we would present our project in lieu of a midterm exam.

Shit. I hated group projects. Besides not being able to ensure that everyone in the group was pulling their weight, I had to get closer than I was comfortable with to people in the class. Any minute spent with someone I didn't know was one minute closer to getting my cover blown.

And yet, I wanted to spend time with Edward. He was nice, and funny, and fucking hot, and if I had to have a partner in this class, I definitely wanted it to be him. He was even kind of famous, in his own way. If, for some reason, he found out who I really was, maybe I could convince him to keep his mouth shut because he knew what it was like to be hounded. Maybe not to the extent I was, but if walking on campus the other day with him was any indication, he was no stranger to attention.

"Okay," I gave in. He grinned broadly and gave a little fist pump, and I couldn't help but grin back. He was too cute.

When class ended, I reluctantly accompanied Edward to a small coffee shop that was across the street from campus.

"What do you want?" he asked me.

"I can get it," I said, joining him in line.

"I know that, but I asked you what you want. I'm getting it."

"Edward," I huffed.

"Just go get us some seats. This place is filling up." I looked around and saw that he was right, so I gave him my best evil eye and went to grab us a table in the corner. There was a chair that made my back face the rest of the store, so only Edward would see me. Good.

"I got you a skim vanilla latte. Don't girls like that?" he asked, placing the cup in front of me a few minutes later.

"Wow, that was fast," I commented, blowing into the lid to cool it down.

Edward grinned and winked over my head in the direction of the counter. "I know one of the baristas."

"Ah," I mumbled and turned around to see what she looked like. She was pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way, but she was blushing like mad and looked ready to do his laundry and cook him meals just to be close to him. I turned back around. "You shouldn't take advantage of people like that. That girl is ready to blow you and then thank you for it."

Edward laughed and blushed slightly, making him even prettier. "I didn't ask her to make mine first. She just did. And I tipped her generously."

"Unless your tip included your phone number, I doubt she'll be happy."

"Yeah, and now she's kind of glaring at you," he said, looking back down quickly.

I groaned. "Great. Now I'm going to be put on the Edward Cullen Fan Club hit list."

He blanched, horrified. "There's an Edward Cullen fan club?"

I had to put my cup down to keep from spilling it, I was laughing so hard. "No, no!" He gave me a look, but I kept laughing. "But I'd think about starting one just to make you look like that again. You looked like someone told you you were going to loose your penis to gangrene!"

"Izzy, that's not funny!" he said, covering his crotch with his hand like gangrene was really a threat. "You should never joke about a man's equipment."

I finally finished laughing, wiping a tear from my eye. "Edward, you have to know every girl in here is staring at you. I mean, I can't walk with you on campus without becoming self-conscious." If only he knew how much.

He grimaced. "I know, I know. It's embarrassing." Then he brightened. "But that's why I like you so much. You don't treat me like Edward Cullen, USC quarterback. You treat me like a normal person."

He looked at me then, giving me that eye voodoo, and I cleared my throat. I knew coming out with him was a bad idea, and he'd just confirmed it. He was getting ideas about our friendship, and I wanted only too badly to give him a few more. Especially ones for the bedroom. But I didn't have the luxury of any kind of relationship, even just a friendly one. As much as I wanted it, wanted _him_, it was too dangerous.

And I had a feeling if I got just one taste of Edward Cullen, it would never be enough.

"Let's get started on that project," I said, hauling my bag over to dig through it. The light in his eyes dimmed, but he nodded and began talking about his ideas.

~*~*~*~*~

"Rosalie! Rosalie! What are you doing?" I yelled at her, following her as she weaved through the crowd.

"Finding out about this DJ," she called back over her shoulder, continuing to shove her way to the front of the line. I could only see her in all the people because she was so tall in her ridiculous Jimmy Choo stilettos.

"Rosalie!" I yelled in frustration. We'd been walking down the street after dinner, talking about ideas for my first real tour, when we'd come across a club that was clearly packed. There was a huge line in front and I could feel the bass from the music pumping in my stomach. It wasn't a club I usually frequented, but all the hubbub around it drew my attention. I was interested to see what was going on, too, but I was in normal Bella mode and didn't want to be noticed. Rosalie, as usual, was too focused on her objective to pay attention to my feelings. It made her a great manager, but sometimes a bitchy friend.

She reached back and grabbed my hand to pull me up with her. "Hey, there," she said flirtatiously to the bouncer, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and ignoring the groans and yells coming from the line. All she had to do was wink and flash some of her ample cleavage and he was in the palm of her hand, nodding and letting us through.

"Rose, I really don't want to do this right now," I yelled in her ear.

"I don't care. I've heard of this kid, he's supposed to be hot, and I want to check him out," she yelled back.

I looked around, automatically trying to spot paparazzi, but I didn't see any cameras besides simple personal digital ones. This wasn't a celebrity hot spot, so there probably weren't any paps lurking inside, trying to make a buck by snapping a few celeb pics. I relaxed slightly but kept my eyes bouncing around the club, taking everything in. I didn't look my best- we were just out for a quiet dinner, I'd thought- and I really didn't want to show up on the cover of US Weekly in my normal Bella clothes again. I was wearing only a denim miniskirt and a small Rolling Stones tee, something Lady Bella would never dream of donning.

"Come on!" Rose called, pulling me further into the club. We walked down a little hallway and emerged right onto the edge of the dance floor, where what seemed like hundreds of bodies were bouncing to the music. It was hot, extremely loud, and I felt right at home. I hadn't been able to just enjoy a club and a DJ in so long.

"He's good," Rosalie said in my ear, after a few minutes of listening.

"Yeah," I called back, nodding my head to the beat. I saw a couple of guys approaching out of the corner of my eye, and shook my head at them, in a clear dismissal. They grimaced but turned around, thankfully.

"You want a drink?" Rosalie asked, nodding to the brightly lit bar on the other side of the club.

"Sure. Just a rum and coke," I told her, not feeling like fighting through more sweaty bodies. As soon as she walked off, I slid a few feet to my right to lean against a column, partially hiding myself from the crowd but still in view of the DJ booth. I wanted to be able to watch the DJ without worrying about someone watching me.

He was talented, whatever his name was. He was tall, lanky, with long blonde hair tied in a low ponytail and lots of tattoos. He was intensely focused on what he was doing, ignoring the scantily dressed skanks who kept approaching the booth. I wondered if maybe Rosalie should talk to him about a collaboration…

I was lost in thought, getting inspired by the music, when I felt someone sidle up next to me. "No, thanks," I yelled, never taking my eyes off the DJ.

"Why not?" a familiar velvety voice whispered in my ear.

I whipped my head around. "Edward?"

He smiled at me. "Fancy meeting you here. You didn't really strike me as the club type," he said, his mouth practically on my ear so I could hear him over the music.

God, he looked hot. He was dressed simply, in dark jeans and a white button up shirt, but he looked good enough to eat. He'd clearly tried to tame his bedhead hair, but didn't get very far. His shirt was glowing from the black lights that were strewn all over the club, and his teeth glowed when he smiled at me. I was entranced all over again.

I must have looked like an idiot, just staring at him, because all of a sudden Rosalie was yelling, "What's gotten into you, Bells?"

I looked at her, startled. She was looking at me like I'd just grown two heads. Before I composed myself enough to say anything, though, Edward reached a hand out. "My name is Edward, Izzy's friend from school. And you are?"

Rosalie gave me a look, probably about the name, but thankfully didn't say anything. She held up the cups in her hand, to show why she couldn't shake his, and said, "Rosalie. _Izzy_'s friend from a long time."

Edward just smiled at her, and I tried to tear my eyes away, I really did. But my eyes were like moths to a flame. I really couldn't help it.

Rosalie bumped my arm with hers, holding out the rum and coke. She was still glaring at me, obviously intending on giving me the third degree later, but while Edward was standing there, looking like a human popsicle made just for me, I couldn't make myself care.

"So, what are you doing here?" Edward said in my ear, making me shiver deliciously.

"Just checking out the DJ," I replied. I had to clench my free hand into a fist to stop myself from reaching out and rubbing his delicious chest, which was playing peek-a-boo with his shirt and making me drool.

"Yeah, me too. A couple of guys from the team know him, said he was really good," Edward yelled. I usually tried to refrain from conversations at a club, out of respect for the DJ and also because they were nigh impossible with all the noise, but I had no desire to stop him from standing so close to me and doing ear porn on me. This was all I'd let myself have from him, and I was going to enjoy it.

"He is good," I called back.

"I'm going to go see if I can talk to him," Rosalie said, obviously taking my comment to mean I was definitely interested in working with him. She was right, but mostly I was just glad she was leaving. One less witness to my pathetic ogling.

Wow, this was bad. Five seconds with Edward and I was ready to ignore my career, just as long as he talked in my ear and smiled at me some more.

"He's been ignoring girls all night," Edward warned me. "I hope she isn't expecting much."

I smiled. "Rosalie has a way of getting whatever she wants." I nodded my head at the booth, where Rose was already chatting the DJ up. Edward gave a short laugh in shock and shook his head.

"Wow. I mean, she's definitely beautiful, but she's nothing compared to you," he said. I sighed. What should have been a totally cheesy line that made me roll my eyes really made me melt into Bella goo. This was reaching epic pathetic proportions.

"Thanks," I said, shaking my head. "But Rosalie is widely considered to be the prettiest girl in LA." I knew it, and accepted it. She was a damn good manager. And Lady Bella would never dream of being intimidated by another woman, even if she was a blonde Amazon who used to be a model for _Vogue_.

Edward leaned in close, so I got a whiff of his spicy cologne. "Then everyone else clearly hasn't met you." I looked into his eyes, trying to read the joke, but he looked deadly serious. My heart skipped a beat.

"You wanna dance?" I found myself asking.

He smiled broadly. "Sure!" He grabbed my hand and led me through the gyrating bodies to the center of the floor. I was so into him, I barely remembered to duck my head and shake my hair into my face to hide, to keep someone from recognizing me.

"Don't do that," he commanded, brushing my hair behind my ear. "You're too beautiful to always be covering up."

I looked up at him, weakening by the moment, and saw Rosalie looking at me, stunned, out of the corner of my eye. She motioned to the DJ, clearly asking if I wanted to talk to him, and I shook my head imperceptibly and then hid my face in Edward's wide chest, throwing my arms around him.

I was shocked by an electric current that shot from my body to his the second our skin touched. My entire body began tingling, and I wrapped myself around him further to feel more. It was like he truly was a magnet.

What's the use of fighting a magnet?

Edward seemed surprised as well for a moment, but then he got into the music and began moving our bodies. He was a very good dancer, I was happy to see, and within moments my panties were drenched and I was using all my self control not to jump his ass in the middle of the dance floor. Dancing always got me, I don't know why I suggested it. _Oh wait, yes I do_. That damn Edward voodoo.

The songs segued into one another, and I have no idea how long we swayed together, but I sure as hell wasn't pulling away. I felt like Cinderella, with only one night to have any fun. I'd already promised myself I would go back to careful, guarded Bella on Tuesday, so right now I was going to enjoy myself to the fullest. I'd even stopped glancing around the club, looking for cameras. My attention was wholly on the demigod in front of me.

"You dance really well," Edward murmured in my ear.

I nodded. "Thanks."

We danced a little while longer, falling into the music, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was about to rip Rosalie a new one when I saw who it was.

"Jazz!" I squealed. I wrenched myself away from Edward and jumped into his waiting arms.

"Bells! I can't believe it! What a small world!" he exclaimed. He gave me a big hug, squeezing me tight, and I was so glad to see him I nearly cried. It had been ages since we'd last hung out together, at the beginning of my rise to stardom. We'd emailed and texted, but hadn't actually been together in… a year?

"It's been so long, Jazz! I miss you!"

"Me too, Bells! I barely recognized you!"

I immediately cooled down, remembering Edward was standing right there, and untangled myself from Jazz. I looked at Edward, and his face was stormy, like he wanted to yell and fight but was holding himself back.

I stepped back to Edward's side. "Edward, this is my longtime buddy Jasper." I gave Jazz a significant look, similar to the one I'd given Rosalie before, and said, "Jasper, this is my friend Edward. We go to school together," I added, hoping he would catch the hint and not give me away.

Jazz smiled and held out his hand. "Any friend of Bella here is a friend of mine."

I closed my eyes in frustration. I couldn't be mad, Jazz didn't know about the name thing. "Bella?" Edward asked, just like I suspected. He ignored Jazz's outstretched hand.

Jazz looked at me, confused. "My full name is Isabella. He and Rosalie call me Bells or Bella, but I prefer to go by Izzy," I explained in a rush.

"Oh." Edward didn't look satisfied with this explanation, but it was the best I could do. I _knew_ I was getting too close to him. He was going to figure everything out due to my own carelessness.

"We should be going," I said, pulling myself away from Edward with no small effort before I confessed my entire life story and grabbed Jazz's arm. "I know Rose will be dying to see you."

"Sure, Bells. Nice to meet you, Edward," Jazz said politely.

Edward gave him a tight smile, and barely glanced at me. He looked upset. "Bye, Izzy," he said quietly; I only knew he said it because I read his lips. He turned and disappeared into the crowd, and I stared helplessly after him.

"What was that all about?" Jazz asked in my ear.

I looked at him sadly, feeling sick. "Nothing. Just a dance."

Jazz gave me a pointed look, but thankfully didn't push it. "You want to see Alice?"

"Of course!" I said brightly, trying to shove the look on Edward's face out of my head. "I haven't seen her in forever. Or you, either. What are you doing out here?"

"Came to visit Ali," Jazz replied, leading me off the dance floor and into a quieter side room that was clearly VIP. Rosalie was already in there, sitting on a sleek white leather couch, talking to Alice and a large man with dark skin and hair who looked Native American.

"She's living out here now?"

"Yeah, it sucks, but she came out here to open an LA branch of the boutique," Jazz explained. Alice was an up-and-coming fashion designer who had taken Bryant Park by storm a couple of years ago, the night she'd met Jazz. Her collection had taken off, and Jazz had proposed a mere three months later. They would be married now, but they were both too busy with their crazy careers.

"Bella!" Alice squealed, and bounded across the room to jump on me. Thankfully, having known Alice for quite some time, I was prepared to catch her. She was always throwing herself around, a result of her seemingly endless energy, and it helped that she wasn't much bigger than Thumbelina.

"Hey, Ali! How are you?"

She untangled herself and stood next to Jazz. "Good, good. Business is booming. But you haven't been to see my shop! We live in the same city now, you know!" She gave me a guilt face that was so strong, it would have made Jon Gosselin repentant.

I grimaced. "I know, I just heard. I've just been really busy, with trying to finish the second album and preparing for my first tour."

"And spending time with hot quarterbacks," Rosalie added from across the room. I looked at her sharply, but before I could say anything, Alice pounced.

"No way! You have a boyfriend? Oh my gosh who is he? Have I heard of him? Is he cute? How did you meet him?" This was all said in the blink of an eye. I could barely understand her.

"Yes, Bella, please do tell," Rosalie drawled.

I looked at her angrily. "It's nothing. He's in my class at USC, that's all."

"That's not all. You were practically salivating at him. I've never seen you act like that. Never mind the fact he's got you watching football," Rosalie accused.

Jasper's eyes widened. "You're watching football? Wow, you must really like him."

I hid my face in my hands. "Would you guys please cut it out? It's really nothing. I know him from school, and it was nice to dance and not worry about who was watching me for once." I took a deep breath, then dropped my hands and straightened up. "Now aren't you going to introduce me to your friend here?" I asked in a hard tone, conveying my desire to drop the subject. I smiled at the dark man and held my hand out.

Rosalie sighed, but let it go. "This is Jacob Black. He's James' manager."

I shook Jacob's hand, but looked at Rose questioningly. "James?"

"The DJ you've been grooving to," Jacob cut in. "He's awesome, isn't he?"

"He's got something," I acknowledged. "Where has he played before?" I slipped right into business mode, trying to demonstrate to them that Edward really did mean nothing.

My heart cried in protest. It knew better.


	4. Summerboy

**Summerboy- Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

Sitting next to Izzy in class the next week was like being at Guantanamo. She still smelled good, she still looked so beautiful, and I still wanted her something fierce. But she hadn't said anything to explain herself, and I sure as hell wasn't going to put myself out there like that. I already felt like enough of a fool.

At the time, I couldn't believe my luck. I was listening to some random DJ my friends wanted to hear, dodging several grabby hands, when I saw her leaning against a column that rimmed the dance floor. She'd looked so pretty, in a tiny skirt that showed off spectacular legs and a hot little Stones tee. She was caught up in the music, and I couldn't help myself. I sidled right up next to her, and when she'd asked me to dance, I thought I was going to do a victory dance in the middle of the club.

Then… that dance.

God, she was hot. Her tight little body wrapped around mine, her silky mahogany hair just under my nose, teasing me with her strawberry scent… I was in heaven. The electricity crackling between us was probably enough to light the damn club. I knew then I wouldn't be able to resist her anymore, I'd have to pursue her. Maybe, if I was open about everything, she'd understand that I couldn't spend that much time with her right now. But after football season, I could take her out wherever she wanted to go, be with her whenever she wanted. I didn't want just a casual fuck- I wanted her. For much longer than one date. I wanted to look up in the stands and know she was there, cheering me on. I wanted to take her to New York with me for the Heisman trophy presentation, if I got that far. I even wanted to introduce her to my parents, and I'd barely known the girl for a week! I had never felt this way about a girl, ever.

And then that assfuck walked up and she flew to him like bees to honey. I'd never known that when you got extremely jealous, you really saw red instead of green. My vision turned fucking _crimson_.

Then, to top if off, he called her Bells or Bella or whatever, and made it seem weird she'd told me her name was Izzy. My first thought was she was faking to get close to me, as arrogant as that sounds. I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. But what real person lies about that shit?

So there we sat in class, her giving me guilty looks every now and then and me pretending I don't see her. Or smell her. Or feel the energy wafting off her luscious body, calling to me like a siren song. I really wanted to ignore her, but my cock was pretending he didn't get the message and trying to wave at her. It was extremely uncomfortable.

"Edward?" I heard her ask timidly, after class on Tuesday.

I didn't look at her. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk about what we're doing for the project for Thursday."

I sighed heavily. Alone time with her was the last thing I needed right now. "Yeah, I guess. Why don't you meet me at the athletic center study room tomorrow? I got shit to do after class today." _Like take care of some business below the belt, before I get to practice and get accused of being homo by sporting a huge boner around 45 guys._

I could feel her staring at me, but I wouldn't budge. If I looked into those chocolate brown pools, I'd give in and beg her to dump the blonde fucker and be with me. "Sure."

"Is around two okay?"

She was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Yeah," she finally responded, sounding really unsure. "Can I have your number to call if I'm going to be late?"

"Why, got something better to do? Or someone," I sneered. I closed my eyes, immediately regretting the jab and the insanely jealous tone coloring it.

"Edward!" she gasped, clearly taken aback by my hostility. I felt awful, and wanted to apologize, but my self control was weak as it was. If I gave her an inch, my heart would pull me a mile, and I'd be a slobbering, pleading mess at her feet.

I scribbled my number quickly on a scrap of paper and thrust it at her, still avoiding her gaze. "Here. If you can't make it by three, don't bother, because I have practice. We'll have to work something else out in that case."

"I'll be there at two," she swore, pocketing the number. How I wished she'd asked for it in a different way, in a world where she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I shot out of my seat and stalked out of the classroom. Being near her and not touching her was causing my hands to twitch.

That, and knowing I'd caused the pain in her voice.

~*~*~*~*~

I got to the athletic center study room around 2:15 on Wednesday. I had wanted to make her wait, make her worry that I might not come. Maybe then she'd feel an ounce of the pain and anxiety I felt on Friday night, watching her pounce on that lanky blonde douche bag.

"Look, you're not allowed in here," I heard Jessica say to someone sitting in the corner. "Only athletes."

"I'm meeting Edward Cullen, I told you," Izzy's low, sexy voice replied.

"Well, you said you were meeting him at two, and it's almost 2:20. So obviously you were lying. Just leave, and I won't turn your name in," Jessica sneered. I hurried up and walked around the big desk in the middle of the room, bringing them into view. Jessica looked like a grade A slut, with pounds of makeup and uncomfortable-looking clothes, as usual, while Izzy was a study in contrast. She looked freshly scrubbed and pure, dressed simply and without any artifice, and she was gorgeous.

My heart clenched at the sad, defeated look on Izzy's face. God, I was such an ass. I needed to man up and apologize for my shitty behavior. It wasn't like I owned her or anything.

No matter how much I wanted to.

"Let me just text him," she said quietly, reaching for her phone.

"Come on!" Jessica exclaimed. "You're obviously just a-"

"Hey, Izzy," I said loudly, not wanting her to hear the rest of that sentence. Jessica was such a snotty bitch.

Izzy looked up and smiled, but it wasn't her normal smile. She looked so depressed, and I wondered if that Jasper guy had done something to her. I felt a surge of irrational anger.

"Edward!" Jessica cooed, latching onto my arm like a damn leech. "Hey, baby."

I gently extricated myself and threw my bag down onto the table Izzy was at. "Hey Jessica," I said politely. "I would talk, but Izzy and I have a ton of work to do."

Jessica pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in what she obviously thought was a cute gesture. I just wanted to throw up. "Okay, Eddie. But come find me when you're done."

I rolled my eyes where only Izzy could see, and she giggled. "We'll see," I said quietly. I waited until Jessica was gone before I leaned over the table and said, "I'm sorry I was late, Izzy."

She smiled again, and this time it was a little bigger. "It's ok. I just wish your bouncers weren't so trashy."

I laughed. "Me, too. You have no idea."

"She's looking at you like you're something to eat," Izzy commented, watching Jessica over my shoulder.

I shuddered. "Please, let's talk about something else."

Izzy's eyes softened and grew pleading. "You're ready to talk to me now?"

I sighed, and shrugged my shoulders. "I realized I was angry about nothing. You never made me any promises. It was just a dance."

"But it wasn't, Edward!" she exclaimed, reaching across and grabbing my hand where it rested on the table. Tingles spread from my hand to the rest of my body. "Jazz is just a friend, nothing more. He helped me a lot when I first moved away from home, so we're just really close. But he's engaged. There is nothing between us." She ran her thumb along the side of my hand and lowered her voice. "That dance was special, Edward."

I swallowed hard, and tried to ignore the burgeoning in my cock again. It felt like an elephant had been removed from my chest, I was so relieved she wasn't with Jasper. But there was still one thing bugging me. "What about the name thing? That's weird, Izzy. Or Bells. Or whatever."

Because I could read her eyes so well, I saw them tighten just slightly before she rubbed my hand with hers again. "Everyone who's known me since I was a kid calls me Bella, or Bells. I told you guys my name was Izzy because I wanted to come to college and start over. Is that so wrong of me?"

I shrugged. "I guess not," I said, feeling dumb for getting so out of shape when she was just trying to break out of her old shell. Isn't everyone who comes to college doing that? "What would you rather I called you?"

She looked at me from under her lashes, and my stomach twisted in a delicious kind of way. "Whichever you like."

Oh, God. When she talks in that husky sex voice like that, I'll definitely do whatever she likes. I gulped air like a fish out of water. _Get it together, man!_ "Okay." We stared at each other for another long minute, before Izzy pulled away and straightened, her face brightened considerably.

"So what did you want to do for tomorrow?"

We chatted about the project for the next hour, throwing ideas around and assigning roles. I could tell Izzy was a hard worker, and I was relieved. I'd picked partners based on a pretty face before, and been burned when there wasn't anything behind it. Izzy was a smart woman, which just made her sexier.

God, I'd never been so affected by a woman before! Being the star quarterback in high school and now in college had brought its share of groupies, and it didn't hurt that girls thought I was hot. So I'd been with more than my share of women. And none, not a single one, came even close to making my heart pound like Izzy did. It scared me, but excited me even more. I was a guy, but I still wanted the kind of love my parents shared. Call me a pussy, I don't care.

When we were finished, I didn't want to let her go, but I had practice. "Can I walk you to your car?" I asked.

She blushed prettily. "It's out of your way, Edward. I'll be fine, it's the middle of the day, and besides, I've got mace," she said, showing me the small can in her big bag.

I grimaced. "That doesn't make me feel better, somehow."

We finished packing up our stuff and began walking to the front of the athletic center. "I don't want you to be late for practice. You've got a big game on Saturday."

"You pay attention to football?" I asked incredulously.

"Only recently," she mumbled, avoiding my gaze. I couldn't help but wonder if she'd begun watching for me.

I opened my mouth to tease her about just that, hoping to get another beautiful blush to last me until tomorrow, when Jessica's grating voice interrupted me.

"Eddie! I told you to come find me when you were leaving!"

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, I forgot."

She sidled up to me and grabbed my arm. Needless to say, there were negative sparks when she touched me. "I wanted to tell you about a concert my friends and I got tickets to. I want you to come with!"

Izzy was looking at me, amusement sparkling in her eyes. I gently but forcefully removed Jessica's grip and stepped closer to Izzy, hoping Jess would get the idea, but Izzy just stepped away and tried to hide a snort. She was enjoying this! I would have to get her back… maybe tell Emmett she'd been asking about him…

"I don't know, Jessica. I'm pretty busy."

She stuck her fat lip out. "But these tickets are impossible to get! You won't want to miss it, everyone will be talking about it!"

I sighed. "Who is it, then?"

Jessica smiled widely. "Lady Bella!"

I saw Izzy stiffen and immediately turn her face away, hiding behind her curtain of hair again. What was that about? "Who is Lady Bella?"

"Edward, I swear you live under a rock! She's only the hottest pop star on the planet right now! Her songs play on the radio like, every ten minutes," Jess chided me.

I shrugged. "I don't really listen to popular radio."

"Well, you should. How else are you going to have conversations with people? You have to be up on current events!"

I snorted at Jessica's idea of current events, and noticed Izzy had relaxed slightly but was still facing away from us. I wanted to ask her what was up before I had to run to practice, so I said, "Sure, Jess, whatever, just let me know when it is," never intending on actually accompanying her. Hopefully, by that point, Izzy would be my girlfriend, and Jess would start leaving me alone.

Jessica's whole face lit up. "Really! Yay! Thanks, Eddie! I'll call you!"

I grabbed Izzy's hand and pulled her out the door of the athletic center, barely listening to Jessica. "Are you okay?" I asked.

Izzy looked at me in confusion. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked a little freaked out back there."

Izzy laughed, but it sounded a little forced. "Doesn't she freak everyone out? I mean, her voice sounds like Godzilla attacking Japan or something!"

I laughed along with her, but recognized her deflection for what it was. I looked at my watch, sighed, and decided to follow up on this later. Coach Carroll was already going to have my ass for being so late. "I have to run. See you tomorrow?"

Izzy smiled. "Of course. Have fun!"

I began jogging backwards towards the practice fields. "Yeah, right!"

As soon as she was out of sight, I turned around and practically sprinted to the locker rooms, where I threw my bag in my locker and grabbed my pads. Thankfully I'd gone to my meeting with Izzy mostly dressed for practice. I hustled out of the locker room and onto the closest practice field, where Peter, the quarterbacks coach, was clearly waiting for me. Everyone else had already begun warming up on the far side of the field.

"Sorry, sorry, I had a group meeting," I hurriedly explained.

"It's fine, Edward. You're not practicing today, anyway. Did you forget?"

I frowned. "Forget about what?"

He gestured to his left, where there was a film crew standing in a cluster. I groaned. "I'll take that as a yes," Peter laughed. "They want to interview you and me today, and get footage of you in practice next week, I think."

I sighed heavily and followed him to the film crew. A very pretty woman wearing entirely too much makeup broke away from the group and approached me. "Hi, Edward! My name is Erin Andrews, I'll be the one interviewing you."

I gave her a smile and held out my hand for her to shake. I watched her eyes flick over me, taking me in, and I fought to keep a smirk off my face.

"This will be painless, I promise," she said, smiling widely. I nodded slightly as she walked away to confer with someone, probably a producer or something, and grimaced because I was not prepared for this today. The jealousy and confusion over Izzy had taken up all my attention the last couple of days, and I still hadn't decided how I felt about being put under the microscope anyway. I knew if I were going to go all the way and join the NFL, interviews and scrutiny were all part of the package, but I guess I'd been hoping to stave that off for awhile. I was still in college, for God's sake. I still lived in the damn athletic dorms.

Erin came back over to me. "Why don't you go sit down on that bench right there," she said, pointing to the players' bench on the side of the field. "The cameraman is going to see if that's a good angle, with the sunlight." I nodded and sat down, and Peter tossed me a football.

"Got to look authentic," he said with a grin. I rolled my eyes. Yes, because I am a quarterback, I must have a pigskin attached to my hands at all times. Tim Tebow probably carries one around in his back pocket, to play with between church and inappropriate meetings with Urban Meyer. I snickered to myself as I threw the ball from hand to hand, glad to have something to fidget with.

Erin talked with the crew for a moment, and then somebody brought a director's chair over and placed it in front of me. She came and sat down in it and gave me another big smile. "This is perfect. Are you comfortable?"

I laughed. "Physically, yes."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "First time?"

"Not exactly, but it doesn't make it any easier. I'm not really one for attention."

Erin laughed. "Then you probably should have picked a less important position."

I smiled ruefully. "Maybe. But there's nothing like chunking a football down the field in a Hail Mary and winning the game at the last second."

Erin hit my knee playfully. "Save those quotes for the interview! You haven't been wired for sound yet."

"I'll try to remember that one," I said, chuckling.

She smiled and pulled out a notebook as a sound guy came over and hooked up a microphone to me. "Do you have any questions before we begin?"

~*~*~*~*~

After class the next day, I walked out smiling with Izzy. Though the professor hadn't said anything, I knew our project had gone really well. Since she was so shy, I'd thought Izzy would want me to take the lead, but she had stepped up and given our mini-presentation to the entire class confidently. I was going to be discussing our progress next week, and to be honest I was a little nervous about following her performance. She'd been so relaxed, like public speaking was second nature to her. It had taken me several minutes before I'd been comfortable enough with Erin to give her more than one-word answers to her questions.

I really wanted to capitalize on the good vibes from our presentation, and I had determined I was going to ask her out after daring myself to man up in front of the mirror this morning, but as soon as I was faced with her, I felt like throwing up. I hadn't been this nervous around a girl since I was thirteen and couldn't stop the spontaneous boners.

"Izzy?" I asked, stopping outside the classroom building.

She turned to me, her big brown eyes curious. God, I loved those eyes.

"Youwannagooutsometime?" I said it so fast, Superman would have had a hard time understanding. I could feel my face flame with color.

She smiled widely, and then it dimmed. "I would love to, Edward, but I've got a really busy weekend. My boss is a slave driver."

I knew a brush off when I heard one, considering I used them often myself, but it still stung quite a bit. My head fell and I watched my feet as I turned to begin walking again. "Oh, okay."

I felt a small hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "I have a free night tonight, though. Is that too soon?"

My head shot up, and she was looking at me with hope written all over her face. It took all my willpower not to grab her and plant one on her right then. "That's perfect."

Izzy's smile was blinding. I was struck again by how beautiful she was. "Where do you want to meet?"

I laughed. "Izzy, this may be the 21st century, but I was raised by a very proper Southern belle, and she taught me that a gentleman always picks his date up."

"You don't have to do that. Besides, I live way on the other side of LA. It would take forever and waste tons of gas," she said quickly.

I was struck by a sudden idea and stopped walking to look at her. "Izzy, are you ashamed of where you live?"

She bit her lip nervously and looked at her feet. "You could say that."

I reached out and lifted her chin. "Izzy, I don't care about that. I want to take _you_ out, not your apartment."

She gave me a small smile. "You really are a great guy, Edward."

"Of course I am. You should actually consider yourself quite lucky."

She laughed, all the sadness leaving her eyes, and I felt ten feet tall. "I absolutely do."

~*~*~*~*~

**AN: For those of you who don't watch college football, Tim Tebow is the University of Florida's star quarterback who won the Heisman two years ago, and helped them win the National Championship the past two years. Urban Meyer is his coach, and they have a creepy close relationship. Like, kissing each other's foreheads on the sidelines kind of creepy.**

**Let me know if there are any other references you don't understand! Sometimes I forget other people don't watch football all day on Saturdays like we do.**

**Also, reviews are sunshine. :)**


	5. Bad Romance

**Bad Romance- Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

Class on Tuesday had been pure torture. Edward wouldn't even look at me, not that I blamed him. We'd definitely been having a moment, and then I jumped straight into another man's arms. He couldn't know that we were old friends, or that Jazz was very happily engaged to Alice. All he saw was me, practically molesting Jazz with my hug after being wrapped around him, and then he caught me in what seemed like a lie.

I kept telling myself it was all for the best, but my heart felt like it was cracking in two. Edward had really inspired me- I'd had a melody playing in my head from the moment I met him. Our dance Friday night had brought a few lyrics to mind, and any time I tried to work on anything else, my brain shut down and I couldn't stop thinking about the way his arms felt around me, or the whisper of his cheek against mine as he did ear porn on me. He was making me feel all sorts of things I'd never felt before and definitely had no business feeling now. Not when I'd lied to him from the start.

Then we'd made up to work on our project, and then he'd asked me out. I found myself saying yes before I even thought about it. I'd like to say it was because I'd reasoned it out and decided I wouldn't deny myself this one small pleasure, but really all I could think when he asked me was _Edward likes you! Edward likes you! Bel-la and Ed-ward sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…_

The giddy feeling had lasted throughout the day, but now he was going to be at my house in twenty minutes, and I wasn't ready at all. Even worse, I hadn't cleaned out all the things that belonged to my other life that were scattered everywhere, which was why I didn't want him to come here in the first place. I had pictures with lots of famous people, both as myself and as Lady Bella, a blown-up, framed version of my album cover, and several music awards I'd won for my debut. There was even a beautiful series of five photos that Rosalie had made displayed in the living room that began with normal me and ended with Lady Bella, showing the transformation. Normally, it was my favorite decoration, but now I'd have to take it down and hope Edward didn't notice the holes in the wall.

Edward had told me to dress simply, so I threw on a sapphire-blue shift with black leggings underneath and I pulled out my favorite black boots (boys didn't recognize designers, thank God). Then I shoved my hair up into a messy twist and began trying to do my makeup, but my hands were shaking. "Rosalie! I need help!" I yelled. I'd put her on cleanup duty, but I needed her styling expertise more- I could always not let Edward come inside.

She came into the bedroom and dumped my American Music Awards and one Grammy on the bed. She looked at me, shaking her head. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"I really don't either, Rose. All I know is, I can't stay away from him any longer." And it was the truth. When I had sat and thought about actually going on a date with someone who wasn't in the industry a couple of hours ago, all my instincts had been screaming at me to call and cancel and then drop the class so I never had to see him again. But when I thought about sitting next to Edward, holding hands with Edward, even _kissing_ Edward, my heart had soared, and I'd known I would never be able to say no to him.

"You're really playing with fire here. I wasn't happy about you taking this class anyway, and now you're trying to have a real life? You're about to go on tour, for God's sake. The first tour you've ever headlined," Rosalie said, putting her hands on her hips.

I groaned. "You don't have to remind me. I know what is at stake here. But he's different."

Rosalie rolled her eyes but came to me and grabbed the mascara out of my hand. "Of course he is. He's hot, sexy, _and_ USC's star quarterback. Which just makes this harder," she warned.

I sighed heavily. "I know, I know. Would you just shut up and be happy for me for once? I really, really like him."

She stopped brushing my lashes and her gaze softened. "I know, Bells. And a part of me is very happy for you. You deserve something for yourself after the year we've had. I just don't want you to get hurt, and I can't see this ending well."

"Me either," I admitted quietly.

Rosalie resumed applying makeup to my face. "Just think of it as a good time. If you don't get your hopes up, it won't be so bad when you leave in a couple of months."

_I think it's too late for that_, I thought sadly.

There was a knock at the door, and I looked at Rose, panicked. "I'm not ready yet!"

She bit her lip trying to hold back a grin. "I know, sweetie. I'll go distract him in the living room while you finish up." She swiped the blush once more over my cheeks, checked my face quietly, then nodded to herself and left the room.

"Don't be too distracting!" I called as she went to let him in. That was the last thing I needed- glamazon Rosalie hitting on the only guy I've found interesting in awhile. Then I really realized what she'd said. _"Not the living room!"_ I bellowed, running out of the bedroom with lip gloss in one hand and trying to hold my hair up with the other.

"Why not?" Edward's sexy voice asked, sounding very amused.

I halted and looked around quickly. Rosalie was standing in the foyer, trying to hide her laughter, and Edward was just inside the living room, not even attempting to hide his. I looked at the walls and the bookshelf and noticed Rose had done a good job of getting rid of everything- there was even a huge mirror in the place of my portrait series that I'd never seen before, covering up the blank space.

"Uh… um…." I trailed off, losing all train of thought when I looked back at Edward. Jesus, such incredible appeal should be illegal. He was wearing tight black pants that showed off his strong legs, a black and yellow plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up that hugged his defined chest, and a black pageboy cap covering his gorgeous hair that made him look very European and gorgeous. Normally I would tell him to take the hat off so I could run my fingers through his hair, but he looked so adorable. And edible. _And let's not go down that path until much later in the date, Bella…_

"Why don't you go finish getting ready, Bells?" Rosalie asked, still chuckling.

"Oh! Yeah, I should… do that," I said lamely, and turned to go back into my bedroom. I knew my face must be the color of a thousand suns. God! What was it about this man that turned me into a squirming teenager? I threw the lip gloss into my purse, tugged the boots on, and decided to leave my hair up. I knew Edward liked it like that, so he could see my face. Hopefully nobody else would be paying any attention to us.

I drew in a deep breath and went out into the living room. "I'm ready," I said meekly.

Edward walked over to me and presented me with a single calla lily that I hadn't noticed before. "For you," he said simply.

I blushed again, for what would probably be only the second of many times tonight. Jesus, you'd think five years in New York City's club scene would have bleached that innocence right out of me. "Thank you."

Rose walked over, hand held out. "I'll put that in a vase for you. You guys go on, have fun. Don't be too late, you've got an early morning," she reminded me. We had scheduled time in the studio beginning at six- I usually did my best work early, a result of that being the only time I _could_ work on my stuff when I lived in New York- but now I really wished I was a normal musician who didn't roll out of bed until noon. I grimaced as I handed the beautiful flower to her.

"Yes, mom," Edward said playfully. Rosalie stuck her tongue out at him, and I laughed at their easy camaraderie.

Edward held out his arm. "My lady?"

Rosalie snorted as she walked into the kitchen, and I shot daggers at her back. Was she _trying_ to give me away? "Kind sir," I said to Edward, smiling brightly and slipping my arm through his.

He escorted me outside to a very shiny gray Volvo. "Nice ride," I commented.

"Thank you. It was a gift from my parents," Edward said proudly. He walked me to the passenger side and opened the door, but before I could get in, he asked, "Why were you embarrassed about your house, Izzy? This place is gorgeous."

I looked back at my house, trying to stall and come up with something. "Um… I don't like the neighborhood. Sometimes it's sketchy and I didn't want your car to be keyed or anything."

Edward pointedly looked both ways down the very deserted street in my very normal neighborhood. "I can see why you're afraid," he said sarcastically. Then he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be afraid with me, Izzy," he breathed, his mouth inches from mine. My pulse sped up at his closeness, but he pulled back. "Get in. I don't want you to miss your curfew."

~*~*~*~*~

Edward took me to a very nice Italian restaurant for dinner. Though I didn't appreciate the looks he was getting from just about every female in the place, the food was excellent. It didn't hurt that I was seated across from the world's sexiest man- watching him eat became my new favorite pastime. His lips wrapping around the fork… his throat muscles as he swallowed… the look of contentment on his face when he was finished… it was an erotica I'd never before experienced. I was constantly rubbing my thighs together, hoping he didn't notice and think I was some sort of deviant.

He helped me stay out of a lust coma by constantly asking questions. I had to be on my game for those, since I didn't want to lie, but obviously couldn't tell the entire truth. It was becoming increasingly hard for me to not just blurt out that I was Lady Bella, and let the chips fall where they may, just so I wouldn't have to lie to him anymore. It was killing me.

"Where are you from?" Edward asked, after covering basics like my favorite movie, TV show, and what kind of car I drove.

"I'm originally from Forks, Washington," I said. "Then I moved to New York, where I met Jasper, and then I moved out here."

Edward's eyes widened. "What did you do in New York?"

I took a drink of water to allow myself time to compose a mostly true answer. "I waited tables and went to the clubs. That's how I met Jasper, he's a DJ."

"Really? You were a club rat? I have a hard time believing that."

I laughed. "Why? Because I don't have glow sticks attached to my wrists?"

"No, I just don't see you being the up-all-night-dancing-and-drinking type," he explained.

"What do you see me as?"

Edward's eyes got darker, and he reached across the table for my hand slowly. When he finally grabbed it, I swear actual sparks flew off. "You're very beautiful, and sexy. But you're also smart and a great public speaker. So maybe you should be… a madam?"

My mouth fell open in shock. Edward was obviously trying very hard not to burst out laughing, and I tried to glare at him angrily. "That's not very nice, Edward," I said lowly. I worked at hiding a smile.

"I was only trying to think of something to use all your talents," Edward protested. "And with your degree in photography, you could probably branch into porn."

I narrowed my eyes at him and smiled wickedly. "I bet I could get you to star in one."

It was Edward's turn to look shocked. He recovered quickly, though, and said, "Only if the only person to ever see it was you."

His answer surprised me. He would be in a sex video for me? While I wanted to be disgusted, it was actually pretty hot. Like, blazing hot. _And I could be in it, and there could be fuzzy handcuffs… _

"Where did you go?" Edward asked, jostling my hand to get my attention back.

I flushed. "Um, nowhere. Just thinking about what to call your porno. It should have something to do with football, I think."

Edward grinned at me. "That's not what you were thinking." I squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, trying to hide from his laser green eyes, but then he sighed. "I guess I can let it go in favor of finding more out about you. What's your family like?"

I smiled, thinking of Charlie and Renee. "My father is a police chief in that little small town, and my mom teaches kindergarten. She's a very free spirit, which is where I get my love of the arts from. No siblings. What about you?"

"My dad is a surgeon in Chicago, my mom an interior decorator. I was pretty spoiled as a boy, but I think I turned out alright," Edward said with a wink.

The waitress brought the dessert, a delicious-looking tiramisu, which halted the questions for awhile. I wanted to know more about him desperately, but he'd probably expect me to reciprocate, and that was hard for me. I was surprised he hadn't called me out on my carefully crafted answers already- I was a terrible actress. Lady Bella was mostly me, just in garish makeup and outrageous costumes with less of a verbal filter.

After we were finished, Edward grabbed my hand and led me back to the Volvo. "Where to now?" I asked, once we were both seated.

Edward grinned. "It's a secret."

I huffed like I was frustrated but still smiled. I hadn't been on a date in forever, and it had been even longer since I was out with someone who wasn't trying to get something from me. It was so nice to be out as just Bella, with no expectations or preconceived notions. But whenever I thought about how I was lying to Edward, I felt so incredibly guilty. At the same time, I was selfish and wanted just a little more time with him.

And who knew, maybe he could come to like me so much, it wouldn't matter when I finally did tell him.

We drove through the streets of Los Angeles, and I began to recognize where we were headed. "Are we going to campus?"

Edward just smiled. "We'll see."

He drove a little further, and then parked in the stadium parking lot. I looked up at the giant building, in awe of how huge it was up close. With all the lights and beautiful architecture, it reminded me a little of the Coliseum.

"Is this okay?" Edward asked. I realized he was nervous.

"Sure, Edward. I just don't know what we're doing here."

He got out and came around to help me out. "I wanted to take you to the most important place in the world to me."

I smiled at him and reached my hand out, to show him I wasn't bothered by where he'd taken me. Sure, it was a little unorthodox for a first date, but he could have taken me to Tijuana and I wouldn't have cared. Just as long as I was with him.

Edward grinned and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the stadium. "This place is so crazy on game days. Have you ever been to a game here?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"You'll have to come see me play," Edward said. "I always get a couple of tickets for each game, and I usually give them to my parents, but I'm sure they won't mind if I give you one."

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I can buy one," I said.

Edward led me through a side gate and we began walking through the bottom of the stadium, our steps echoing on the concrete. "I won't make you pay to come see me, Izzy. That is, unless you don't want to see me play," he said, a frown flitting across his face.

I pulled him to a stop so I could make him look at me. "I would love to watch you, Edward," I said, placing a hand on his warm cheek. "I would be so worried you'd get hurt, though."

"I have a good offensive line," Edward offered.

"I wouldn't expect anything but the best from USC," I said, laughing. "But I'd be worried just the same."

Edward's green eyes burned into my own. "Why? I thought you said we couldn't even be friends," he reminded me. "Do you only care about strangers?"

I swallowed. Did he really want me to declare myself already? Wasn't coming out with him enough? "We're not strangers, Edward. I only said those things because I thought it would be better. But then I got tired of trying to stay away from you," I told him, just like I'd told Rosalie.

"Why did you ever try?" Edward asked sadly.

"I'm not good for you. It's as true now as it was then. I just gave in to my selfishness," I said, pulling my hand away from his cheek and turning away.

Edward grabbed my arm and pulled it around his neck, and wrapped both his arms around my waist. "You're the smartest, nicest, sexiest woman I know, Izzy," Edward said, his eyes smoldering at me. "You're not selfish, I am. And I'm going to prove it by trying something."

I quirked my eyebrow questioningly, and he slowly lowered his face.

_OH! I'm not ready for this! I want to, but what if- _

My inner freak out was silenced by the feeling of his soft lips on mine.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I was in heaven. Edward was a master kisser, and we'd only been liplocked for like ten seconds. Fireworks were bursting behind my eyes, and when he swept his tongue across my bottom lip gently, I thought I was going to go up in flames.

He moved his mouth gently over mine, and I responded eagerly. I allowed him entrance, and his taste… God, I could become addicted to Edward. Very easily.

I was nowhere close to done when he pulled away. He rested his forehead on mine, breathing heavily. "I wasn't going to do that yet," he said softly.

"I am not complaining," I said, using my hand on his neck to bring his head back down to mine. We kissed for several more minutes, our hands wandering a little but staying pretty safe considering this was our first kiss, and I was seriously floating on cloud nine.

Edward finally stopped us by slowing down and placing several fleeting kisses on my cheeks, nose, and forehead. "I haven't showed you what I wanted to show you yet," he said.

I grinned. "Well, then, lead on. I'll do whatever you want, so long as we get back to that."

He laughed and gave me one final kiss on the forehead. Then he grabbed my hand and led me up a concrete rise to a locked gate, through which I could see the stadium. "I had my janitor friend give me the key," Edward said, producing said key and working the lock open. He grabbed my hand again and led me into the brightly lit stadium, which looked amazing.

"Wow, Edward, this is gorgeous," I said.

"It's definitely different seeing it empty," he replied, looking around. "I can't describe what it's like when the stands are full. All the people look like one giant organism, moving with the music and cheering… you have to see it for yourself," he added, turning to look at me with pleading eyes.

I smiled at him. "I already told you I would come."

Edward returned my smile, weakening my knees. "Good." He led me down the steps until we got to the very bottom row, where there was a small gate leading onto the field. "Hold on a sec," he said, and vaulted over the gate, landing on the turf.

My eyes widened. "Edward, what are you doing?"

"Showing you my favorite place in the world. Now, give me your hand, I won't let you fall," he said, reaching up for me.

"I'm in high-heeled boots and a dress, Edward! You could have warned me."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "And ruin the surprise? Come on, I won't tell anybody if you flash me."

I rolled my eyes at him and put my purse down on the closest seat. "Won't we get in trouble for this?" I asked, as I hitched my legs over the gate so I was sitting on it.

"Come on," Edward said cockily. "I'm the quarterback. They're not going to say anything." He held his arms up, and I took a deep breath before pushing off the gate and landing in Edward's strong arms.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, holding me off the ground.

"Mmm," I hummed, leaning in to give him a small kiss.

He set me down and I looked around. "This is where you walk around during games?" I asked, gesturing to the sideline. We were on the 20 yard line, and the numbers looked so much bigger than they did on the screen.

"Well, this is the visitor's side, so no. But they're mostly the same," Edward said, walking up to the edge of the field. He reached back for my hand. "I want you to see it from my perspective."

I smiled and gave him my hand. Just as he stepped out and put his right foot on the field, a huge alarm sounded. I looked at him, panicked, and Edward looked shocked as well.

"What's that?" I asked.

"I don't know! Maybe the field is wired?" He began running down the sideline toward a gate in the corner of the field, dragging me behind him. It was not easy going, since my heels kept getting stuck in the turf. The alarm began to hurt my ears.

"I thought you said you worked something out with the janitor!" I accused.

"Just for the key!" Edward called back. He opened this gate with the janitor's key, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it worked on all the gates. He began tugging me towards the parking lot, but I resisted.

"My purse, Edward! It's in the stands!"

Edward looked back at me, clearly torn. "Can't you leave it?"

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. "Are you serious? That has all my stuff in it! My ID, my credit cards-"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Go to the car, I'll run back and get it and meet you there. If you see the campus police, hide in the backseat," he said, pressing his car keys into my hand. I nodded and watched him jog off, then booked it to the parking lot.

I let myself in his car and waited for Edward to join me.

And waited…

Fifteen minutes later, I was beginning to get really worried. The alarm that had sounded when he'd stepped on the field suddenly cut off, and I just knew he'd been caught inside the stadium.

After a few more minutes of worried hand-wringing, when I'd finally decided to drive his car home and wait for him to call me, I saw Edward emerge from the stadium with my purse, just walking along like nothing was wrong. I shot out of the car and practically ran to him.

"What happened? I was so worried! Did they catch you? Are you in trouble?" I asked breathlessly.

Edward smiled and hooked his arm around my neck, turning me to lead me back to the Volvo. "It's fine, Izzy. Don't worry, everything is fine."

I huffed and hit him in the chest with my hand, stopping him. "What do you mean, everything is fine? What happened?"

Edward flushed slightly. "I just had to make a deal, that's all."

"What kind of deal?"

He sighed heavily. "Well, one of the campus cops who I know was the one who answered the alarm. He saw me, and I knew I wasn't getting away with anything. So I went up to him, explained the situation, and after he made fun of me for several minutes, he let me go with a warning and a favor."

"A favor?"  
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I have to make an appearance at his teenage daughter's birthday party next weekend," he mumbled uncomfortably.

I burst out laughing.

"Hey! I did all this for you! The least you could do is commiserate," Edward said, jabbing his finger at me.

I settled down, wiping the tears from my eyes, then grabbed his outstretched finger and kissed it. "I'm so sorry, Edward. Those girls are going to be all over you, and you're going to be miserable."

Edward sighed. "Definitely."

I sidled closer to him and put my arms around his waist. He brought his arms around me, and I rested my head on his defined chest. "They better not be too grabby, though. I don't like it when other girls touch my man."

Edward kissed my hair. "Is that what I am now?"

I leaned back to look at him. "If you want to be."

"You sure are singing a different tune, Izzy Swan."

I smiled at him. "Someone convinced me otherwise."

Edward smiled back at me, then let me go slowly. "Come on, I should take you home. It's late."

He led me to the car, helped me in, then got in the driver's side. "I'm sorry tonight ended so poorly," he apologized.

I put my hand on his knee. "Don't be sorry. This date was memorable, at the very least."

He smiled, that crooked smile that made my lady parts burst into song, and I was afraid my eyes were saying too much. "Thank you for giving me a chance, Izzy," he said softly. My heart twisted, hurting because I knew I would end up hurting this wonderful man. But how could I let him go? He was the first normal thing I'd known in months, and his kisses turned me to mush.

"Thank you, Edward," I said, and leaned over to kiss him.

I didn't get home until much later. When I did, I raced to my music room, grabbed some paper, and sat down at my piano. I finally had lyrics for the song Edward inspired in me.

_I want your drama, the touch of your hand_

_I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand_

_I want your love_

_Love, love love I want your love_

But because whatever was burgeoning between us was tainted by my deception, I had to name the song "Bad Romance." As soon as Edward found out the truth, I knew that's what it would end up being, and I couldn't blame him.

And he would leave, and my heart would break.

God, I was so selfish.

**AN: So, what do you think? Good first date?**

**Btw, that stadium thing totally happened to me. I wasn't on a date, but with some friends, and when the alarm went off we ran like crazy out to campus and blended in with the people going to class. Thank God it was the middle of the day, or I would have been toast. They don't mess around with the football field at my old college.**


	6. Again Again

**Again Again- Chapter 6**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

Though Izzy and I were both pretty busy, we managed to steal some time together over the next couple of weeks. We went to the beach once, where we made out under a boardwalk. I also took her to see some cheesy chick flick, during the entirety of which we made out in the back row. Mostly, though, we had just enough time to grab a cup of coffee and sit in the corner of the coffee shop, talking about nothing and smiling stupidly at one another.

She was so beautiful. I could stare at her for days. Her long, gorgeous hair, her pretty smile, and of course, my favorite brown eyes I would love to get lost in. I tried not to focus too much on her body, because then I would just get worked up and Izzy had given me no indication that she was ready for that yet. I, on the other hand, woke up nearly every morning with an iron-hard rod in my pants that I had to get rid of in the shower to thoughts of her in order to be able to walk.

But I didn't want to pressure her. I was acutely aware of Izzy's skittishness, thanking my lucky stars she'd even agreed to go out with me when it was clearly against some code she had in her head. I don't know why she thought she was bad for me- she was easily the best thing in my crazy life right now. So I held her extra tight and kissed her with everything I had to make sure she knew there was nowhere I'd rather be. Except maybe a bed.

"I want to meet your friends," I announced to her as we left class one Thursday.

She looked startled. "What? You already have," she stuttered.

"I met Rosalie, and that DJ guy briefly. I mean, I want to go out with them, see who you are with them."

"Why?"

"I want to know everything about you, Izzy," I said, grabbing her around her tiny waist. "So I want to know your friends. And they can probably tell me great stories about you."

She still looked like a deer caught in headlights.

I stopped walking and tipped her chin up. "What's the matter, Izzy? Have you told them about me?" I didn't even want to think about what that might mean.

She nodded quickly. "Of course I have."

"Then what's the big deal?"

Her eyes darted away, even though I was still holding her chin. "I don't know, that just seems really… serious."

I laughed. "You think I'm not already serious about you?"

She stared back at me, clearly surprised. "You are?"

I threw my arms around her and held her close to my body. "Izzy, this is going to sound bad, but I don't go out with girls. I take them home sometimes, but that's it. The fact that I've taken you on even one date makes you one of a kind on this campus."

Izzy drew back and looked at me, eyes narrowed. "So you're a man whore? Love 'em and leave 'em type?"

"I just told you, I used to be. With you, I'm completely different," I vowed. It was weird how honest I was being with her, but I knew I wanted her to know everything. Secrets only served to cause problems in relationships, and I didn't want anything to be able to come between us.

She still looked suspicious. "How do I know that?"

I smiled at her. "Because I've also never done this," I said, and leaned down to capture her mouth. I kissed her slowly, keeping my lips closed, just savoring the feeling of her lips moving against mine, not caring who was watching.

I pulled back after a long moment and Izzy's head whipped around wildly. "Edward! You don't just kiss people in the middle of a busy campus! Look, everybody is staring at us!"

"But that's what I'm trying to prove to you. I did it so everyone can see that I'm serious now. About you," I said, kissing her again quickly.

"The last thing I need is more attention," she muttered.

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

She looked up at me, and her beautiful brown eyes were worried. "I just don't like being the center of attention, that's all. It's embarrassing."

"Izzy, you are easily the most attractive woman on this campus. You're the center of attention everywhere you go."

Her eyebrows drew together angrily. "Did someone say that to you? How do you know that? Do you talk about me with people?" She pulled her hair around her neck, covering her face, and her eyes darted all around us.

"What is the deal, Izzy? Why are you freaking out?" I asked, dropping my arms from around her.

She finally looked up at me. "I- I don't know. I just… don't feel very good. Can we go now?"

I looked at her warily, but let it go. She was clearly not acting herself. "Well, I have practice in about an hour, but before that I have to do another interview with ESPNU. The last one didn't give them enough material, I guess. Hey, you want to come watch?"

Izzy's eyes grew round as saucers. "You're giving interviews for television? About what?"

I was seriously confused. What was up with her today? "Just for a piece ESPNU is doing on me and my supposed 'quest for the Heisman.' I think that's what they're calling it, anyway."

"Why are you doing that?"

Now I was getting frustrated. "Coach asked me to, it's good press for the program. And it never hurts to get my name out there, for NFL teams to know who I am and what I can do."

"Everybody already knows who you are," Izzy said bitterly. I don't think I was supposed to hear it.

"Look, you knew who I was before you agreed to go out with me," I said, trying to keep my temper in check. "You shouldn't have led me on like this just to bail at the first sign of some unwanted attention. And it's not even real attention! Nobody watches ESPNU except scouts and football geeks!"

Izzy looked at me again, and I was struck by the sadness in her eyes. "You're right. I shouldn't have gone out with you. This was never a good idea."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second!" I said, grabbing her arms as she tried to walk away. "I was just frustrated, and said some things I don't mean. I want you, Izzy," I said, lowering my voice. "I want you very badly. And yeah, it sucks to be under the microscope all the time, but that's part of my position. I thought you knew that."

Izzy wrapped her arms around my waist and hid her face in my chest. "I'm so sorry, Edward. I don't know what came over me. You're right, you were always up front about everything. I just… I just don't do good when I know people are watching me and I'm not prepared for it. It freaks me out."

I reached around and began rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. "It freaks me out sometimes, too. But don't worry. It's not like I sit there and talk about you or anything. I mostly just talk about my regimen, and what it's like to be calling the shots in pressure situations, stuff like that."

She pulled back a little to gaze up at me. "But what about when you kiss me in the middle of campus? People were staring at us, Edward. I didn't like it."

I shook my head in frustration. My gesture was being taken completely the wrong way. "I just wanted everyone to know I was taken. By the most beautiful, smart, caring woman I've ever met. What's so wrong with that? Don't you want people to know you're taken, too?" I was suddenly feeling very vulnerable here. I'd confessed quite a bit for her, and she hadn't said too much in return besides her dislike for attention. Was she really leading me on?

Izzy's eyes softened. "Of course I do. I'm proud to be with such a wonderful, sexy man," she said. "I just don't think it's anyone else's business, I guess."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I can understand that." I kissed her forehead softly, then pulled away and began leading her to the parking lot. "So when am I going to get to meet your friends?" I asked, trying to get on an easier subject.

Izzy bit her lip, and my cock stirred. _Of course, right before I have to go to practice._ "Um… I'll have to check with them for their schedules. I really have no idea how long Jazz is in town for, and Rose is always pretty busy."

"Sure, I understand. Can I ask Emmett?"

She laughed, her face lightening. "Of course! I'd love to see him again. Just not your trashy bouncer friend," she said, raising her eyebrow.

"That is not a problem," I assured her. We got to her truck- this old, rusted, big red thing that would probably die on her way home- and I gave her a quick kiss goodbye. "Can I call you tonight?"

"Let me call you," Izzy said. "I don't know how caught up I'll be."

I nodded and watched her get in her truck before turning and heading to the locker rooms to get changed. It was strange- she nearly always asked me to wait for _her_ call- and since I was a guy, I was used to having to be the caller. The last time I'd had a girlfriend, anyway, which was like 9th grade. I wasn't sure how I felt about her assumption that she was busier than me.

Then there was that weirdness today with all the attention stuff. I mean, she'd seemed like a pro when we did our presentation all those weeks ago! So a few people saw us kiss on campus- big whoop-de-do. People did that all the time, and with way more tongue. I couldn't shake the feeling there was something else there that was bugging her.

As I walked into the locker room, I threw my bag down on the bench and began stripping. I'd just have to make her feel more comfortable about being with me- that was the solution. I was already in way too deep to let her go over something as simple as shyness. She'd see that it was really no big deal and quit freaking out on me about talking about her, or kissing her in public. Then everything could be normal… well, as normal as any relationship with a starting quarterback was.

~*~*~*~*~

It was early Sunday evening, and I was in the middle of using my one free day to veg out and watch some NFL football, when Izzy called.

"Hey, hot stuff," she teased.

"What's up?" I asked, pausing the game with my DVR (aka God's greatest gift to mankind behind fire).

"Well, did you still want to meet with me and my friends?"

I sat up quickly and knocked over the bowl of popcorn that had been resting on my stomach. "Yeah!" I said excitedly.

"Can you do it tonight? It's our only free night for awhile."

"Tonight is great," I said.

She sighed. "Then you should meet us at my house at eight. We're having pot roast and all the fixings."

I frowned. "You don't sound happy about this."

The line was silent for awhile, and I pulled the phone away from my ear to check that we were still connected. "Izzy?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm sorry. It's just- I'm nervous about this."

"Why, baby?"

She giggled, like she did every time I called her that, and I smiled into the phone. "My friends are extremely overprotective of me."

"You think they won't approve of me?"

"That's part of it. But also, Rosalie doesn't think I should be dating right now. I've got a lot of… personal stuff going on, and she thinks I'm losing my focus."

"Wow, this sounds a lot more like I'm meeting the parents than dinner with your friends," I said, running my hand through my crazy hair. Now _I_ was getting nervous.

She laughed, but it was quiet and there wasn't any joy in it. I could tell this was stressing her out. "These people are more like family than friends," she explained. "But it's important to me that you meet them, too. I want them to know the reason why I've supposedly been 'losing my focus.'"

"Have you?" I asked, worried that I was causing her problems. With whatever she was doing. She never was very clear about that…

"Partly. But I don't care. You've inspired me much more than distracted me."

I smiled widely. "I inspire you?" I couldn't hide the pride in my voice.

"God, here comes the ego again," she sighed dramatically. "Oh! I have to go. But come over around eight, and don't bring anything but your hot bod."

"I knew you only wanted me for my looks," I teased.

"You know me well, then," she answered quickly. "See you later, Edward."

"Sure thing," I replied, and we hung up. My mind was racing with what she'd said, and how tonight might go. I wanted them to like me- they were her friends, practically her family, she'd said, and I wanted to make a good impression. Also, I had to think about whether or not I really was making her lose her focus. I had no idea what she was doing outside of school, and that would have to be my defense to Rosalie. How could I be distracting her when I didn't even know I was being distracting? Besides, she could have told me she didn't have time. God knows I'd bailed on her plenty when I football shit to do.

But the biggest concern was making sure that Jazz guy knew Izzy was hands-off. She'd said he was engaged, and that was great if he really was into his lady, but I hadn't liked how handsy he'd been when he'd hugged Izzy at that club. He needed to know that Izzy was mine now, and I was taking good care of her.

Mmm… I'd like to _really_ take care of her, make her feel good, maybe give her a massage to ease her mind… run my hands all over that luscious body, feeling her soft skin… I could only imagine how her ass would feel in my hands, those tight little muscles bunching under the soothing pressure…

And now I was hard again. I looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was close to 6:30. It was later than I'd thought, but that still gave me plenty of time in the shower to take care of business.

God, I wished it was Izzy's hands instead of mine. I was seriously afraid I was going to get hand burn on my dick if I had to do this by myself much longer.

~*~*~*~*~

I knocked on Izzy's door promptly at eight. I'd ignored her instructions and brought a bottle of wine in hopes of softening Rosalie up. She'd seemed like she needed it at the club, though she had been a touch nicer those brief moments before my date with Izzy. Rose was a beautiful woman, no doubt, and even prettier when she was laughing at Izzy rather than scowling, but she was nothing compared to my girl. Izzy was a traffic stopper. At least, she would be if she wasn't hiding her face all the time.

The door swung open, and a very small, very excited woman with cherubic features and spiky black hair answered the door. "You must be Edward!" she shrieked, and bounced into my arms.

"Um… yes?" I answered, shocked into practically forgetting my own name. Who was this woman? And why was she practically vibrating?

She bounced off of me- I was strongly reminded of Tigger- and grabbed my free hand to pull me inside. "I'm Alice. We've been waiting for you! I'm so excited to meet a boyfriend of Bella's, I've been bugging Jazzy and Bella about it since I heard you were coming!"

"_A_ boyfriend of Bella's?" I asked.

She gave me a look and laughed, a musical, tinkling sound. "You know what I mean. You're obviously the only one. She barely has time for _you_!" She dragged me into the living room, where Rosalie and Jasper were sitting on the couch. "Look who's here!" the tiny woman sang.

They stood up, and Jasper waved while Rosalie politely said, "Hello," but didn't look happy about it. _Bitch_. Alice bounded over to Jasper and he put his arm around her, and the effect was instantaneous. She immediately calmed and leaned into his side. He was like her own personal Adderall. I was also pleased to note that they were very clearly in love- he gazed at her like she was the only woman alive, and she returned the look.

"Edward's here?" I heard Izzy ask, and then she entered the room from what I guessed was her bedroom. "Hey," she said once she saw me, smiling.

"Hey, babe," I answered, going over to her and giving her a big kiss on the cheek. "I brought you some wine."

"You didn't have to do that," Izzy said, giving me a reproachful look and taking the wine from me.

I grabbed her around her waist and nuzzled her neck. "I know. But I like to spoil my woman." I tickled her with my nose and she squealed happily, trying halfheartedly to shove my head away. I pulled away reluctantly, aware we had an audience, and turned to the rest of the room. Rosalie and Jasper looked bemused, but Alice was practically glowing. "Besides, my mama taught me that a person never goes to a dinner party empty handed."

"Your mama is right," Alice said, smiling widely. "Why don't we dig in? The food is ready."

"You act like this is your house," Izzy scolded, leading the way into the dining room. I was impressed with how nice it was- there was a giant oak dining table that sat at least twelve with really cool matching chairs, and a very nice chandelier hanging over the middle of the table. Izzy clearly had some money, or at least her parents did.

We all grabbed plates and served ourselves, buffet-style, in the kitchen, before heading back into the dining room. I sat in the middle of the table, with Izzy next to me, and Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice sat across from us. We'd been eating for a minute when Izzy dropped her fork. "Oh, gosh, Edward! We are so rude! Didn't you say Emmett was coming?"

I smiled and swallowed the bite that was in my mouth. "Yeah, but I didn't want him to eat you out of house and home, so I told him it was just a dessert party. He's coming later."

Izzy hit my arm playfully. "He could have come and eaten however much he wanted. I made enough for a small army."

"Is he a football player, too?" Rosalie asked.

I nodded. "The biggest on our team."

Alice laughed. "That's so fun! I would love to meet a big person who likes to eat." When I looked at her strangely, she explained. "I'm a- I mean, I work in the fashion industry. So all I see are ultra skinny people who don't know what a good meal is every day."

"You don't look like you eat too much yourself," I commented.

Jasper chuckled. "Don't be fooled, Edward. This one can pack it away."

Alice nodded proudly. "And I can drink all you bitches under the table. Any one up for a little contest with some of Edward's wine?"

"Edward has school and practice tomorrow," Izzy protested.

"And Bella has a photo shoot tomorrow," Rosalie chimed in.

"You have a photo shoot? Is it for your classes, or is it a real one?" I asked Izzy, intrigued.

Izzy was glaring at Rosalie, and Rose's eyes were wide. "What's wrong, is it a secret photo shoot? Are you taking pictures of some big star or something?" I asked, nudging Izzy with my shoulder.

She smiled at me, too bright, and said, "Something like that. When is Emmett getting here?"

The doorbell rang at that exact moment, and I shrugged. "Now?"

Alice was out of her chair before I could blink, and Izzy just laughed. "She will probably love him," she said.

"It would be funny to see her try to jump on him," I agreed. "I bet he eats her weight in food for lunch."

Alice came into the dining room leading Emmett by the arm, and it looked like she was trying to pull a truck. "Come on! We're in here!"

"Hold up, pipsqueak! I'm trying to scope out the digs here! Izzy's place is niiiice," Emmett boomed. "Is she loaded, or something?"

Izzy's eyes widened, and I groaned. "God, way to be tactful, Emmett," I admonished.

Emmett grinned at me. "Just keeping it real, son." Then he came over and practically lifted Izzy out of her chair to give her a smacking wet kiss on her cheek. "How's my girl?"

"_My_ girl is great, once you put her down," I said, giving him the stink eye.

He laughed, and the sound echoed in the room. "A bit possessive, are we? Serves you right, Slutward." I glared some more and he finally put Izzy back down.

"What did you call him?" Izzy asked Emmett, giggling.

"Nothing," I said quickly. I did not need Emmett to start running down my list of conquests, something he took great joy in when he was bored or wanted to embarrass me. "Em, this is Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie," I added, pointing at each in turn.

He nodded at Jasper and Alice, then paused on Rosalie. "Well, well, what have we here? Nobody told me models were gonna be at this shindig. I would have dressed nicer." He sat down quickly next to Izzy, across from Rose, and grinned his patented panty-dropping grin. "Nice to make your acquaintance."

Rose smirked. "Likewise. The grub is in the kitchen, you can have whatever's left," she said, pointing the way.

I could see the debate in his eyes- food or the hot blonde in front of him- but food won out. As usual. "I'll be right back. Don't move," he said, darting into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Rosalie reached across the table and grabbed Izzy's hand. "_Who_ is _that_?" she hissed under her breath.

Izzy smiled. "I knew you'd like him."

I looked back and forth between them. "What?"

Rosalie looked at me and immediately sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not like him. I just thought I might recognize him, that's all. From all those games you've made me watch," she added, quirking an eyebrow at Izzy.

"You watch my games?" I asked, piqued. "You told me you had stuff to do on Saturdays and that's why you couldn't come!"

Izzy looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, baby. I _was_ busy, I just kept the game on in the background. So I could watch a little bit." She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, but it didn't distract me enough to keep from seeing her give Rose the finger. I chuckled and accepted her apology.

"This looks delicious," Emmett said as he reentered the room, already taking a bite of a roll.

"That looks like manners," Rosalie said sarcastically.

Emmett just grinned at her again. "Don't worry, you look delicious too, babe," he said, winking.

Rosalie looked stunned, and I just couldn't believe that my stupid friend was going to make such a bad impression on Izzy's friends. I'd warned him not to ruin this for me! "So, Jasper, what kind of music do you play, exactly?" I asked, trying to distract attention from Emmett's extremely loud chewing.

"All kinds, really. Depends on my mood. Sometimes old school rap, sometimes Pit Bull, a little Britney, you never know," he answered.

"You're a musician?" Emmett asked, dragging his eyes from Rosalie's chest.

"I'm a DJ," Jasper said.

"That's awesome! Where do you spin at? I totally want to come the next time you're playing!" Emmett said enthusiastically.

Jasper smiled. "Actually, I live in New York. I'm just here on vacation, visiting my fiancée," he said, kissing Alice on the forehead. She smiled up at him lovingly.

"Wow, that's so cool," Emmett said in awe. "A real New York DJ. Are you famous, or anything?"

Izzy, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper laughed, and it was a weird kind of laugh, like they were all in on some secret joke. Emmett looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged. "I'm known in my circles, yeah," Jasper said modestly. "I actually helped discover Lady Bella," he added, staring at Izzy.

I felt her stiffen next to me. I put my arm around her and looked at her curiously, but she seemed to snap out of whatever it was and gave me her beautiful smile, the one I knew she saved for me. Then she turned back to face Jazz and gave him a weird look, one I didn't understand. Jasper smiled back at her, and I got the feeling it was like they were speaking without speaking. I knew he was with Alice, but I couldn't help the tiny prick of jealousy that snaked through my stomach.

"Lady Bella? That new pop girl with the weirdo costumes?" Emmett asked.

Alice snorted into her drink. "That's her," Rosalie answered, laughing.

"That's cool. Her music is on the radio like, every five seconds it seems," Emmett said.

"Really?" I asked. "I haven't heard of this chick, except for Jessica asking me to her concert the other day."

"Someone invited you to go to a Lady Bella concert?" Alice asked, mirth all over her face.

"Yeah," I said slowly. This conversation seemed a little off, somehow, and I was completely lost.

"But he's not going. That girl is a skank," Izzy said.

"Of course I'm not going with her. That's just sickening," I said, shuddering. "But is that something you're interested in? I wouldn't mind taking you, babe."

The smile stayed on her face, but her eyes tightened. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't so used to gazing at them all the time- it was kind of pathetic, really. "I don't really go to a lot of concerts," Izzy said quietly.

"Okay," I said easily, somewhat relieved. I was crazy about Izzy, but she just saved me a few hours with some diva who probably wasn't even all that great, and tons of screaming girls.

"I'm going to go get dessert," Izzy said, standing up.

"You need help?" I asked, throwing my napkin onto the table.

"No, you stay here, I've got it," she answered, kissing me on the head and grabbing our plates. I watched her walk into the kitchen, entranced by the sexy sway of her hips. Damn, I was a lucky man.

"So, Edward, you're the star quarterback for USC?" Alice asked, leaning across the table.

I blushed. "I play quarterback, yes."

"Don't let him mislead you, Alice," Emmett boomed, still shoveling food in. "The guy's a stud. He just doesn't like all the hoopla."

"Really? I heard you were a front runner in the Heisman race," Jasper said.

"My name has been thrown around by some commentators. But nothing will be official until they announce the finalists in December," I replied. God, I hated talking about this. Especially considering Izzy's reaction the other day. I didn't want her thinking the attention was just going to escalate. I watched the door to the kitchen warily, ready to change the subject as soon as I saw her.

"Oh, you're a shoe-in, Eddie," Emmett said, waving his hand. I grimaced at him, and he simply shrugged. "What? I'm only telling these fine people the truth. You're gonna be a huge NFL star one day, and we can all say we knew you when." He wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

Izzy came in then, balancing an apple pie on top of six small plates. "Here's dessert! My grandma's old recipe." She set it down on the table along with a serving knife, then sat back down. "Everybody help yourself."

"Looks great, babe," I said, wrapping my arm around her again and kissing her ear. She shivered, and I reveled in her clear reaction to me.

"Make sure you try some. I really made it for you," she whispered to me, winking. I smiled and let go of her to grab a plate.

"So you're pretty busy, then, too?" Rosalie asked, looking at me speculatively.

"I guess. After the regular season is over, I'll have a little bit of a break until we hopefully play for the National Championship. After that I'll have a lot more time, because practice isn't as rigorous in the spring," I explained.

"Yeah, then he'll just have to decide if he's going to enter the draft or not," Emmett chimed in. I groaned quietly. He really was not helping.

"Are you thinking about that?" Izzy asked, her eyes alarmed.

"You knew I was," I said quietly. God, Emmett was frustrating. This was not a conversation for us to have in front of our friends.

"Did you tell me that? I don't remember," she said, her brow furrowing.

"I'm still thinking about it, and talking with my friends and family," I assured her, placing a hand on her knee. "Nothing is set in stone yet."

"But think of all that money!" Emmett said. He'd already decided- he was declaring for the draft the first day he could.

"I'd like to finish my education," I said, glaring at him. If he didn't quit it, I was going to make him pay in practice this week. I'd figure something out. Maybe soak his mouth guard in Tabasco, or replace his pads with cardboard…

"So you might be leaving in a couple of months?" Rosalie asked, looking a bit too satisfied at the prospect. It was clear my hopes of getting better with her were futile.

"Maybe. Like I said, I haven't decided. But that's between me and Izzy," I said, giving her a hard look.

"You really like her!" Alice squealed, clapping her hands.

"Of course I do," I said, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"Then you wouldn't care-"

"Alice!" Izzy cut her off, glaring at her.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I was just going to say that, since he obviously likes you so much, Edward wouldn't care that you're older than him."

"Are you worried about that?" I asked Izzy, turning to her. "Why would that bother me?"

Izzy looked down at the table and began picking at her pie. "I don't know. It's just something to think about, that's all."

I put my finger under her chin and gently forced her to look at me. "Izzy, I don't know how old you are, and I don't care. You're perfect as you are." I leaned in to kiss her nose. "Age ain't nothing but a number, right?"

She gave me a small smile. "Right."

Emmett hooted. "Look at Eddie, macking on the older ladies! That is hot."

"See, Bells? I told you, you had nothing to worry about," Alice said, clearly satisfied with herself. "I knew Edward was special the moment you started telling me about him."

"You did?" I asked, pleased at least one of her friends liked me.

"Of course. You should have seen her face. You make her glow."

"Alice!" Izzy wailed, and hid her face in her arm on the table.

"Aw, Izzy, that's nothing to be ashamed of," Emmett cut in, before I could comfort her. "Eddie here can't stop smiling, even when he's taking hits." Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.

"I guess I can be okay with this, for now," Rosalie decided. "She's right, Bells, you've never looked happier, or prettier."

"Thanks for your permission," I said sarcastically.

"Yes, thank you, Rose," Izzy said, lifting her head up from the table and smiling at Rosalie gratefully. She really did sound thankful, like Rosalie had some say in whether or not we could be together. I shook my head. She had some strange relationships with these people.

"It's getting late, though," Rosalie said, glancing at her watch. "You have an early morning," she reminded again.

"I know, I know," Izzy moaned.

We all stood up from the table, Emmett groaning at the amount of food he'd managed to eat in such a short time, and made our way into the living room. "You'll have to let me know how your shoot goes," I said to Izzy. "That's so exciting, I'm happy for you."

She smiled at me. "You're really great, you know that?"

"I try."

Emmett was saying goodbye to everyone else, so I pulled Izzy into the front hallway. I pushed her up against the wall and molded my body to hers. "What are you doing?" she asked, laughing.

"Giving my girl a proper goodbye," I said. I promptly swooped down and caught her lips with mine, instantly asking for and receiving access into her sweet mouth. She sighed, then wrapped her arms around my neck and wound her hands into my hair.

She bit my bottom lip suddenly, and I gasped as my cock instantly hardened into granite. "Is that how you want to play?" I growled, and she giggled. I reached down to grab the backs of her legs, and she caught my drift and pulled her legs up to wrap around my hips. I immediately thrust into her, and she moaned loudly. "You like that, baby?"

"God, Edward," she moaned again, and used her death grip in my hair to force my mouth back to hers. Our kiss was savage this time, raking each others' mouths, and I was quickly getting entirely too excited considering there were four people in the other room. I pulled away and buried my face in her neck, and she whimpered.

"Soon, Izzy, very soon," I promised, trying to calm down.

"Sounds good," she murmured, lightly kissing my earlobe. I shivered and let her legs go.

"What did I miss?" I heard Emmett ask, right behind me.

I groaned and pushed away from Izzy completely. "Something you haven't gotten in a long time."

Emmett laughed, then grabbed Izzy up into a hug. "Thanks for dinner, sugar," he said. "Do I get the same kind of goodbye as Eddie?"

"I'm afraid not," she giggled. "I don't think he'd like that."

"I certainly wouldn't," I said, pulling Em away from her. "Let's go, big guy."

"Bye, Edward! It was so nice meeting you!" Alice chirped. I turned and waved to Izzy's friends in the living room, then gave Izzy one last short kiss before heading to the front door.

"See you Tuesday, babe," I said.

"Can't wait," Izzy said with a grin, and winked. She closed the door behind us, and I suddenly remembered what she'd said when I'd unthinkingly promised to finish our embrace.

_Was she ready to have sex with me?_

I grinned widely and my cock nearly pulled out a gun to force me to go back inside. I mentally ordered him to stand down and prayed I hadn't misread her.

Tuesday couldn't come fast enough.

~*~*~*~*~

**AN: Thanks for all the kind reviews, they really do help me write! Especially when I'm gearing up for a lemon… you know you want it! **

**Also, thanks to angelaspinknose and 107yearoldvirgin for recc'ing this story. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that people whose work and opinion I respect have actually read my drabbles! I feel like I'm in a Sliders-like alternate universe.**


	7. I Like it Rough

**I Like it Rough- Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

"How do you explain this?" Rosalie spat out, throwing a tabloid at me across my kitchen table.

"Rose, I just woke up, I really don't want to do this right now-"

"Well, deal with it. _I_ got woken up to twelve voicemails from several magazines and tabs asking me if I wanted to comment on 'Lady Bella's recent sexploitations.' I need beauty sleep too, you know!" She certainly didn't look it- Rose was absolutely stunning in her fury, her eyes flashing and her hair whipping out behind her.

I, however, was used to this and simply put my head back down on the table. "Is it a picture of me as normal Bella?"

"No."

"Then I don't care."

She spluttered. "You don't care? What do you mean, _you don't care_?!"

I sat up and looked her in the eye. "I didn't stutter, Rosalie. As long as pictures aren't run of me in my normal clothes so Edward or someone else at school might see them, I'm not worried about it. Besides, you know I haven't had time for any 'sexploitations.' You've practically got me on lockdown."

"And fat lot of good it's done you! Do you have enough material for the second album yet? Have you chosen a theme for the tour yet? Noooo!"

My eyes widened. I was seriously afraid she was going to blow a gasket. "Okay, first, you need to calm down, Rose. Take some deep breaths." She just gave me the finger, so I moved on. "Second, I will have you know that I have finally written enough songs. We need like ten to twelve, right?" She nodded coolly. "Well, I have fifteen, so that gives us a little wiggle room. So you're yelling at me about nothing." I calmly took a sip of my yummy kona coffee I had ordered from Hawaii.

She wasn't done glaring at me. "Where did all this inspiration come from? I talked to you last week, and you said you might have six done."

I smiled at her. "Edward."

"Edward? Really?" she asked, quirking her right eyebrow like she does when she thinks I'm bullshitting her.

"Yep. See, you're always whining about how he's distracting me, but actually, I feel more alive around him. I really think this might be my best stuff yet, Rose."

She crossed her arms over her not-small chest. "Then let's hear it."

"Right now? It's Tuesday, I've got class today." _And I'm going to see Edward! Squee!_

Rosalie checked her watch. "You don't have to leave for another couple of hours. Come on, show me what you've got."

I sighed heavily and stood up. "I don't know if you're in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. The songs are happy."

"I don't care if you wrote about the need to 'go green' or werewolves on the beach! I just want you to finally finish this fucker so we can firm up the dates for your tour," she snapped. I raised my eyebrows at her, surprised at her language, but she just shrugged. "I'm under a lot of stress here, Belly. Cut me some slack."

"I'm gonna call BS on that one, babe. Unless by 'stress' you mean Emmett calling you five times a day," I giggled, walking into my music room.

She huffed. "That man cannot take no for an answer."

"I wouldn't take a no from you either, considering we all know you don't really mean it."

"Of course I mean it! I'm not the one trying to jeopardize my future by starting a relationship right at the most important moment of my career!"

I rolled my eyes and sat down at my baby grand piano. "Quit being dramatic. Now, this one is called 'Paper Gangsta,' and I was thinking we could use 20's zoot suits and flapper outfits for the staging, like in a speakeasy," I said, and quickly began playing the first notes.

~*~*~*~*~

I walked to class almost bouncing with nervous energy. I hadn't gotten to speak with Edward much the past two days, since Rosalie really was cracking the whip, and I kept running over our last encounter in my mind. His hands, all over my ass… his mouth, making me see fireworks… his cock, right in my special place as he shoved me up against the wall… I got tingles just thinking about it.

It had also successfully distracted me for a few hours after he'd left, but when I'd remembered my so-called 'friends' blatant hints about my identity at dinner, I'd reamed them good. I was so thankful Edward was oblivious to Lady Bella. It was funny- I'd spent so much time getting my name out there, trying to get my music heard, and now I was doing everything to hide it and I was scared to death Emmett was going to tell Edward to listen to it. Alice was somehow convinced Edward wouldn't care, and Rosalie just wanted me to tell him so the drama would end, but I was too afraid to lose him now. He was beginning to mean way too much.

He was already seated in his usual seat when I entered the classroom, and he smiled widely when he saw me approaching. "Hey babe," he said, winking.

I scooted in front of him, making sure to wiggle my ass in his face, and sat down. "Hey, yourself," I replied, grinning when I saw the dazed look glazing his eyes. He came out of it and turned to face me, and I gasped at how animalistic his features had suddenly turned.

"Watch it, Swan. I'm being held back by a tiny little string. One more tease like that, and the string snaps and you're back in my dorm room with your legs up over your head," he growled, eyes raking over my body.

My pulse sped up, and I drew in a shaky breath. "You can't say stuff like that to me when class is about to start."

He closed his eyes, calmed down, and turned to face forward just as the professor began speaking. "Then please, for the love of God, don't shake your ass in my face. All I could think of was biting it."

I gasped again at the visual, and rubbed my thighs together. Edward caught the movement and groaned. "You are literally trying to kill me!" he whispered, rubbing his hands across his face.

"I'll be good now, I swear," I whispered back, and pulled out my notebook. I began taking notes, trying not to doodle "EC + BS = Forever" in the margins, when I noticed Edward was still shifting around, clearly uncomfortable and not even attempting to take notes. I looked at him questioningly, and he just sighed and looked down at his crotch. My eyes widened into saucers when I saw his jeans were visibly straining, and I may have moaned a little. _How is that going to fit?! I don't know, but I'm going to have a great time finding out…_

Edward shifted again, and put his notebook on top of his lap. "You're gonna pay for this," he whispered roughly. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. God, at this rate, I was going to come the second he touched my panties. My entire body was aware of him, from my fingers itching to touch him to my toes curling in my shoes. It was electric between us, and I knew he felt it too, because his whole body was rigid- it looked like he was even trying to hold his breath.

One tortuous hour later, we stood up as class ended. "Swan, if I didn't have practice in two hours, I would be carrying you back to my bed like a caveman," Edward swore.

"You need longer than two hours?" I asked, incredulous.

He rolled his eyes and began walking out. "I may be a younger man, but I know how to take care of a lady." His arm shot out and he grabbed me and pulled me close. "And I plan on taking great care you, my lady, when I have a lot longer than two hours to do it," he murmured, rubbing his nose along my jaw. I probably would have fallen over if he weren't holding me up.

"Edward," I moaned, forgetting where we were. He had the strange and frightening ability to do that to me.

He straightened and pulled me out of the classroom. "Come on, let's get some coffee before I jump you in the middle of campus."

~*~*~*~*~

We barely got to talk on the phone the next day, and class on Thursday was another exercise in erotic torture. Friday was a big day for Edward, since it was homecoming weekend and there were lots of parades and celebrations, and Saturday he had the big game, which USC won, of course. I was trying to use this time without him to fine tune my album, which of course Rosalie had loved, but I couldn't get him out of my head. He consumed my every thought, and my body was beginning to ache from wanting him. If I couldn't get him over here on Sunday to ravage me, I was probably going to commit murder. I could not survive on a few stolen kisses here and there.

I could tell, from the few times we'd spoken, that Edward felt the same way. His voice got all husky, and my lady parts responded, leaving me in a quivering mess for at least an hour after we talked. I probably should have noticed that our schedules were simply too full for there to be a real working relationship between us, but all I could see were barriers keeping me from having a rollicking good time between the sheets with my man. Even Rosalie was avoiding me, claiming that I was acting like a cat in heat.

When it got to be three in the afternoon on Sunday, and Edward still hadn't called, I became infuriated. How dare he rile me up, then not even call me when I knew this was his day off?

I turned on the TV, and turned it to ESPN, as was my custom lately, hoping to catch a glimpse of Edward. It was an NFL day, but they did do a small piece on the draft for the next spring, and they mentioned him. They flashed his picture, and I bit my lip at his perfection, even on the screen. Then I was mad again, because that perfection was clearly too busy to come over and fuck me.

I flipped the TV off and threw the remote down on the couch. I stalked into the music room and abused my piano for a few minutes, but that just reminded me of Edward and the songs I'd written about him, and the fantasies I'd had about him taking me on the piano bench…

So I roughly shoved the cover over the keys, stood up, and stomped into the kitchen. Baking usually calmed me, and the maid service kept my pantry stocked, so I could make some chocolate chip cookies. Rosalie would yell at me, because I was on a strict diet for the upcoming tour, but I didn't care. I would do practically anything to get my mind off the hot piece of man who was not currently touching me.

I yanked all the ingredients out onto the counters and was searching for my mom's old recipe book when my phone rang. "Praise God!" I squealed, almost fell over in my rush into the living room, and practically dove for the phone where it lay on the coffee table. "Hello?" I asked breathlessly.

"Bells?" someone who was _not_ Edward asked. I instantly deflated and flopped onto the couch, closing my eyes with a sigh.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"You don't recognize the voice of your own mother?"

My eyes popped open. "Oh, sorry, Mom. I was distracted."

"Distracted by a boy?"

I sat up straight. "What did Rosalie tell you?"

Renee cackled into the phone. "Nothing! You just did. What's his name?"

I groaned. "Mom! I thought we were done with those mind games of yours."

"Never, baby, as long as I'm alive and kicking. Now, quit trying to change the subject. Do you, or do you not, have a boy toy?"

"Mom! I will never have a _boy toy_!" It's amazing how, even years after I've proven my independence, and sold millions of records, my mother can reduce me to a mortified teenager in mere minutes.

"Fine, whatever you call it these days. Spill, or I'll just tell Charlie you're dating somebody…" she trailed off, knowing exactly what my reaction would be.

"Renee Higginbotham Swan! You better not tell Charlie anything, or I'm never speaking to you again!" I yelled.

"I'm walking into the living room as we speak…"

"Fine! Fine!" I gave in. "His name is Edward, he goes to USC, he plays football, and he looks like an Armani model."

Renee squealed. "I knew it! Of course he's gorgeous, nothing but the best for my baby. How did you meet? Are you being safe?"

I was about to tell her to mind her own damn business, I was an adult thank you very much, when my doorbell rang. "Oh, that's the door, gotta go!"

"Wait a second-"

I slammed the phone closed on her and took off for the door. I was hoping for Edward, but would take the UPS guy at the moment- anything to get out of that conversation.

I wrenched the front door open, and a huge smile painted my face until I remembered I was mad at him. "What do you want?" I snarled, trying not to dance with glee.

His smile faltered. "What's wrong with you?"

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Nothing. I just have a crappy boyfriend who likes to tease me all week and then not call me on his day off."

Edward's smile returned, and he took a step toward me. "Crappy boyfriend, huh? Must be rough, waiting on someone to call." He quirked his eyebrow, and I immediately felt guilty.

"I told you I'm sorry about that, Edward-"

I couldn't finish my sentence before his lips were on mine. He'd moved so fast, all I'd seen was the blur of his arms pulling me to him before I registered that yes, Edward was in fact ravaging my mouth on my front porch. His tongue was scorching mine, setting my entire body on fire, and his hands were roaming all over my back and ass.

"Let's take this inside," he murmured against my lips.

"Mmm," I replied, not willing to pull away to answer him with real words. He grabbed my legs and picked me up so I was completely wrapped around him, then walked inside and kicked the front door closed. He walked through the living room directly into my bedroom, and I was grateful I'd hidden all the Lady Bella paraphernalia in my closet when he'd come over for dinner last week, in case he'd asked for a tour.

He walked over to my bed and dropped me on it, causing me to bounce a little. I tried to pull him down to me, but he stayed at the edge of the bed, just looking at me. I knew I must look a mess- my hair was up in a ponytail, I was wearing a simple tank top and shorts for around the house, and my lips were probably bright red from the abuse he'd just given them- but his eyes softened and he smiled.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

I blushed, feeling the heat all the way down to the tops of my chest, and his smile turned feral. "You're also mine," he growled, and jumped on me, though he kept most of his weight in his arms. He immediately began kissing and sucking on my neck, and I wanted to warn him that he was going to leave marks, and Rosalie would be pissed, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. I wanted to be marked by him.

"Edward," I moaned, running my hands through his soft, fuckhot hair to clench his head closer to me. He moved down to my chest, placing deep, sucking kisses all over the tops of my breasts, and I shivered in anticipation. One little slip of the cloth, and he'd be on my nipple…

Edward lifted his head suddenly. "Are you sure about this?"

"What?!"

He sat up on his knees, still straddling me, and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "I just wanted to make sure you were ready to take this step. I don't want you to feel forced, or anything."

I smiled at him. "You're very sweet. Yes, I'm ready. Now get down here before I spontaneously combust." I pulled on his shirt, but he didn't budge. Instead, a smirk spread across his beautiful face.

"You think you're about to spontaneously combust? I have had this-" he grabbed my hand and placed it on his hot erection "-tormenting me for a month now."

I gently squeezed him through his jeans, and Edward moaned, and it was the hottest thing I'd ever heard. I should seriously record that, and put it on my CD, and women everywhere would buy it to get off to. I would be doing them a service, really. I squeezed him again, to hear that sound again, and he grabbed my wrist. "If you don't stop that, I'm going to jizz in my pants."

I grinned. "I haven't even rubbed your butt yet."

Edward laughed. "That is true. Would you like to?"

"I'd like to rub you everywhere," I said lowly, staring at his hotness, and I sat up on my knees, too, and wrapped my arms around him. I felt his body all along the length of mine, and every place my skin touched his was magic. I needed the rest of his clothes off, asap. I began yanking at his shirt, and Edward pulled away slightly to whip it off.

He reached down to take my tank top off, gazing into my eyes so intensely I thought my heart would burst. I lifted my arms and arched my back to help him, and his eyes darkened when he saw my sapphire blue bra. "This color looks amazing on you," he murmured, gently tracing the line of the cup across the top of my breast. I shivered, and he grinned wickedly. "Oh, the things I've been dreaming about doing to you," he said, and grabbed the waistband of my shorts to pull them off. I helped him again, and soon I was back to lying on the bed in front of him, this time in only my bra and matching panties.

"You need to hurry up," I said, pointing at his jeans. He shucked off his jeans and shoes, and got on the bed next to me in only his skintight boxer briefs. "God, if I'd known that was what was under there, I would have jumped your ass a long time ago," I said, staring at his well-outlined junk and licking my lips.

Suddenly he was over me, aligning his cock with my crotch and making me moan. "You're going to be the death of me," he muttered before attacking my mouth. My hands immediately flew into his hair and my legs wrapped around his waist, holding him against me, while his hands were everywhere- caressing my chest, rubbing my legs, tickling my sides, tilting my head. I was burning up, and we weren't even naked yet!

"Please," I begged breathlessly, when he released my mouth to begin sucking on my neck again. He really had a thing with my neck.

He leaned up to look in my eyes, and whatever he saw must have pleased him, because he smiled slowly and reached around my back to remove my bra. He peeled it away, and when my breasts swung free, Edward gasped. "Even better than I imagined," he growled. I wanted his mouth on my nipples, but he decided to go ahead and take off my panties as well, and when his breath hit the completely drenched panties just over my entrance, I bucked off the bed. He smirked and pulled them down my legs, leaving wet kisses every few inches or so. _Hmm, Edward's head between my legs… is there any prettier sight?_

He came back up my body, kissing me everywhere but where I wanted, driving me crazy. "Edward," I moaned, writhing underneath him.

"What, baby?" he asked, sucking on my collar bone.

"_Please_."

I felt him smile against my skin, and he brought himself up so his face was hovering above mine. "I can't help it. Your delectable body is distracting me."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you don't get this show on the road, pronto, we're going to have some issues."

He looked at me, fake confusion in his eyes. "You mean like this?" He gently kissed my lips.

"Better," I hummed.

"What about this?" He leaned down and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, swirled the tip with his tongue, then let it pop out. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Much better."

"This?" He took one long finger and drew it slowly up and down my slit, spreading my wetness, and I moaned.

"Mmm… close."

"I think I get it now," he whispered in my ear, and plunged his finger inside me.

"Oh, God!" I yelped, as he added another finger and began pumping them furiously.

"See, I'm a fast learner," he said, nibbling on my ear lobe. He used his thumb to rub circles on my clit, and I was quickly spiraling upwards, the pleasure coiling in my lower stomach.

"Edward… I'm…"

"Come for me, baby," he whispered in my ear again, and I fell apart on his hand. I could feel my juices coating his fingers, and after he'd brought me down from my orgasm, he pulled them up to his face and licked them. "Yum," he said, sucking all my wetness off. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

I growled and pushed him down onto the bed. He looked surprised as I yanked his boxers down his legs and threw them to the side. I reached over his head to my nightstand, my breasts swinging in his face, and retrieved a condom.

"Eager, are we?" he asked, laughing as he teased my nipple.

I leaned back and rolled the condom down his impressive length. I'd wanted to show Eddie Jr. some extra attention, but that would have to come later- I was desperate at this point. I positioned my hips on either side of Edward's, then slammed myself down onto him.

"Izzy!" he yelled, his eyes rolling back in his head. I let out another embarrassingly loud moan and began moving on him, swiveling my hips so he'd go deeper, and the feeling of Edward inside me was exquisite. Like, heaven and chocolate and Hugh Jackman rolled into one.

"Edward… you feel so… good…"

"Izzy, baby, you have to slow down. I'm not going to make it," he begged, gripping my hips.

"Can't… stop…"

He groaned, and I reminded myself to record that for my CD, because I was right, it did just make me wetter. I moved faster, Edward hitting all the right spots inside me, and squeezed my eyes shut against the intense pleasure. This was shaping up to be the biggest orgasm of my life.

His hold on my hips tightened, and he began helping me up and down. "Fuck me," he growled, and though it was more of a curse than an order, I obeyed and slammed down on him even harder. "Shit!" he yelped. "Are you _trying_ to make me blow my load this fast?"

I opened my eyes to look down at him, and the sight that greeted me was too magnificent for words. He was beautiful. His hair was all mussed from my hands, his lips were swollen from my kisses, his teeth were gritted from the pounding I was giving him… but best of all, his eyes were glowing with emotion. He wanted this just as much as I did, and it was clearly more than sex to both of us.

That look ended me, and I felt myself begin to clench around his cock. "Edward!" I screamed, my head falling back and my hips swirling furiously, trying to extend the ecstasy.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned as his warmth began shooting out of him. I wished I could feel it in me, without the barrier, but I was already being irresponsible enough by continuing this relationship with Edward- I did not need further complications.

I collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily, and Edward wrapped his arms around me and ran his fingers through my hair. After a moment, he shifted me off him to dispose of the condom, but came right back and placed me back in the same position.

"That was… intense," Edward said quietly.

"Mmm," I responded, too replete to form a response.

"I wanted to hold out, but your face when you came… it was amazing," he murmured, brushing my hair aside so he could nuzzle my neck.

I propped my chin on his chest so I could look at him. "That was what did it for me, too," I said softly. "When I looked down at you… your eyes…" I didn't know how to finish without sounding terribly cheesy, or making it sound like I was asking for a declaration I wasn't ready to hear. It was enough that I'd seen it.

Edward smiled at me. "I know." I guessed my eyes were saying the same thing to him, and though I knew this was going to cause problems, I couldn't find it in myself to care.

I laid my head back down on his chest and sighed, happier than I'd been in a long time. Maybe even happier than when I'd won my first Grammy.

He continued to brush my hair with his hands, and I felt his breathing begin to slow. I thought he must have fallen asleep, so I shifted to roll off him, but his hands clamped down on my hips.

"Where are you going?"

I looked at him. "I thought you were asleep."

He grinned. "How could I possibly be asleep? I have the sexiest woman in the world laying on top of me. I'm waiting for you to get ready for round two."

I wriggled a little, and felt Eddie Jr.'s reappearance against my inner thigh. "The real question is, are _you_ ready for round two?" I asked, sitting up and smirking at him.

Edward growled and flipped me over quickly, so I was underneath him. "You haven't seen anything yet," he promised, and leaned down to kiss me.

**AN: So, what do you think? Was it everything you hoped for? ;)**


	8. Dirty Ice Cream

**Chapter 8- Dirty Ice Cream**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

"You know you want it as bad as I do," I growled in her ear, grinding my erection into her sweet, unfortunately clothed, center.

"Edward," Izzy whimpered, wrapping her legs around my waist tighter.

"Say it. Out loud."

"Ungh," she moaned, swiveling her hips, looking for friction.

I gripped her hips harder to make her stop. "No. Not until you say it."

"I want you!" she screamed, finally giving me what I wanted.

"That's what I thought," I said smugly, then nudged her drenched panties aside and slipped inside her.

"Shit!" she squealed, her head falling back and hitting the lockers I had her up against.

"Be careful, baby," I said, moving one hand from her hips up to hold her head and cushion it against the pounding I was giving her below the waist. I thrust into her over and over, barely aware of the fact that I was fucking a woman in the locker room, one of my top ten fantasies. Izzy's pussy did that to me- made me lose all sense of time, space, and pretty much anything else.

"Edward," she grunted, trying to push her feet into the back of legs to get some leverage. "Harder."

"I don't want to hurt you."

She opened her eyes, which had been squeezed shut in pleasure this entire time, to glare at me. "I know what I want. You won't hurt me. _Harder_."

I grinned and leaned in to capture her mouth. "Yes ma'am," I murmured against her lips, then slammed into her as hard as I could. She screamed my name, and I heard the metal behind her groan in protest, and I congratulated myself on my awesomeness.

"Edward… I'm close," she warned in my ear.

"Me too, baby," I said, and tried not to lose my footing as I kept up the furious pace she'd demanded. I was rewarded when I felt her pussy walls clench around my dick, and she moaned, loud and low, getting higher until she was eventually screaming. I would worry about people finding us because she was being so loud, but I was so lost in Izzy, I couldn't care less.

"Oh, Izzy, baby!" I shouted as my climax hit me suddenly. I felt myself spurt into the condom, and wished more than anything I was only feeling her. I thrust a few more times, slowing down, then stumbled backwards with Izzy still wrapped around me until I felt my legs hit a bench. I sat down heavily, my legs nearly giving out, with Izzy in my lap, and panted into her neck.

She rubbed her little hands into my sweaty hair. "Did I wear the big bad quarterback out?" she asked, giggling.

I leaned back a little to look at her. "Are you serious? You would wear Dirk Diggler out. You're so demanding."

She quirked her eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"  
"Hell, no."

She smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes in contentment. This, this right here, was my personal slice of heaven on earth. Being inside her, just being _with_ her, was quickly becoming the only place I wanted to be. Izzy was beautiful inside and out, and I knew I was falling in love with her. I'd never felt love before, but that had to be what the jumpy, nervous, ecstatic feeling was called that I felt anytime I was near her. I'd had to stop myself from saying it a couple of times, because I wanted to make sure that's what it was and also because I was pretty sure she wasn't ready to hear it.

In the past week, we'd been fucking like bunny rabbits every chance we got. I knew Izzy was skipping stuff, because Rosalie had told Emmett (one of the few times she answered his calls) to tell me to lay off, but there was no way I was telling Izzy to go away. I enjoyed her presence entirely too much. As well as the fucking. My hand appreciated the break.

Suddenly Izzy sat up on my lap. I was still inside her, and it wasn't pleasant. But before I could say something, she whispered roughly, "Did you hear that?"

I froze. "Hear what?"

She jumped off my lap and began straightening her clothes. "Someone is coming!"

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall that led to the locker rooms. "Shit!" I yelled, and quickly pulled the condom off me, threw it in the trashcan in the corner, and yanked my pants up.

Izzy started giggling. I looked at her, and she was nearly falling over, she was laughing so hard. "What?" I asked, my eyes darting around the room to try and discover anything out of place.

"Your hair! It looks crazy!" she spluttered, laughing even harder.

"My hair always looks crazy," I huffed, and whipped my tshirt on.

"Crazier than normal."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed her arm to drag her into the showers, where we could hide until whoever it was (please, _please_ don't be a coach!) left. "Maybe if you didn't grab it like a madwoman, it wouldn't look so crazy," I muttered.

Izzy stumbled over a mat in the floor. "Don't even act like you don't like it," she managed to get out through her laughter. I grimaced- she was right. I loved it when she tugged on it during our fucking, that's how I knew she was really feeling something.

I shoved her into a shower, thanking God they'd just been cleaned, and whipped the curtain around us. Izzy wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything, because the footsteps had entered the locker room.

"Edward?"

My eyebrows shot up and Izzy looked at me questioningly.

"Edward! Dude, I know you're in here, I saw your freaking precious Volvo in the parking lot!"

I stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed Izzy's hand to pull her behind me. "Emmett? What are you doing here?"

He turned around and grinned widely as he took in our disheveled appearance. I wanted to punch him as his eyes traveled over Izzy's flushed face- only I should get to see her post-orgasmic glow.

"I was looking for you, idiot. What are you guys doing in here? Wait, never mind, I already know."

I glared at him. "Jerkoff. You scared the shit out of us."

"Sorry," he said, not looking the least bit apologetic. "You should be glad it was me and not someone else, though. Like Coach Carroll."

"What do you want, Em?" I asked, cutting the crap. I could tell by his tone of voice he was planning on trying to get something out of this; Emmett was nothing if not opportunistic.

He smiled. "What makes you think I want something?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please. I can read you easier than a Dr. Seuss book. What'll it be?"

He dropped the grin and looked pleadingly at Izzy. "You have to help me, Izz. I'm on the ropes and she's showing no signs of cracking."

"Are you talking about Rosalie?" Izzy asked, confused.

He nodded. "She returns my calls now, at least, but only to yell at me. It's fucking hot, but she won't agree to see me, even for a damn coffee! She says she has too much stuff to worry about, blah blah blah. I know she feels it too, I know it. You have to get her to go out with me!"

I laughed. I'd never seen Em so worked up over a woman. Of course, they normally fell all over themselves to date him, so this was a totally new situation for him.

Emmett turned to glare at me. "What's so funny, loverboy? I remember how sad you were when you thought Izzy didn't like you!"

I felt my face flush. Fucking Benedict Arnold.

Izzy tugged on my hand until I faced her. "You thought I didn't like you?" she asked softly. I nodded curtly, embarrassed, and she smiled. "Oh, Edward, I always liked you. I just had to work through my own head," she explained. She leaned up to kiss me sweetly, and Emmett groaned.

"Are you trying to torture me with jealousy? Because it's working. I _need_ Rosalie, Izzy! I know she's special, I've known it since I first laid eyes on her glorious chest," Emmett pled.

"Have you told her that, Emmett?" Izzy asked, returning her attention to him.

"No! What kind of guy do you take me for? I've asked her out, repeatedly, and told her how nice and sweet I think she is."

Izzy snorted. "Nice and sweet? Em, I've known Rose for many years, and she is anything but nice and sweet. She knows you're bullshitting her. Tell her exactly what you told me, and she'll be putty in your huge hands."

He looked skeptical. "Even the part about her boobs?"

She smiled. "_Especially_ the part about her boobs. Rosalie lives for compliments, believe me." I could totally see that. Maybe I should have thrown a few her way, softened her up more so she'd quit bugging Izzy about me.

Emmett looked hopeful. "Thanks, Izzy!" he said, and crossed the room to grab her up into a hug.

"Watch it," I warned, keeping hold of Izzy's hand.

Emmett let her go and grinned at me. "Haven't you been listening, bro? I can't see anybody but Rosie now." I was taken aback by his extremely out-of-character comment, but before I could react, he'd left the locker room.

"Let's go, Edward," Izzy said, pulling me out of my shock. She tugged me behind her as we checked the room one last time for any remnants of our quick session, then left the locker room and headed for the parking lot.

"You know, you just fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies," I told her as we reached the Volvo.

"Why do you think I asked you to show me the locker room?" Izzy asked, mischief in her eyes.

"Are you serious?"

She smiled. "Duh. Like I care about seeing a smelly room where boys change out of their gross uniforms."

I was dumbfounded. "You're the perfect woman."

"You're just now figuring this out?" She grabbed the keys from my hand and opened the passenger door to get in. She put the keys in the ignition and started the car, then gave me a look. "Hop to it, Eddie! I'm starving," she said, and shut the door in my face.

I'd just been staring at her, trying to figure out what good deed I did to deserve the angelic temptress sitting in my front seat.

~*~*~*~*~

The next Thursday morning, I rolled over to find just about the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my 21 years: Izzy, sleeping on her side, the sheet dipping low enough to play peek-a-boo with her glorious breasts, the sun coming through the window behind her making her silky skin luminescent. I instantly grew hard as a rock, which was saying something considering how much action Eddie Jr. had received last night.

I wanted to wake her up something fierce, but she looked so sweet and peaceful, and I knew she wasn't getting enough sleep lately. So I took one last long look and rolled out of her bed carefully. I grinned- she didn't even budge. I picked my boxers and pants up off the floor and pulled them on, determined to make my girl some breakfast.

It took me awhile to figure out where everything was in Izzy's state of the art kitchen- she seriously must have some sort of secret revenue stash, because this whole place was tricked out- but in no time I had eggs scrambled and bacon cooked. I found a tray in the pantry and laid out two plates, with one big glass of OJ for us to share.

I carried the tray out of the kitchen, and as I was walking through the living room, I heard singing coming from the bathroom in Izzy's room. I smiled, knowing I must have woken her after all, but I was hopeful I could catch her in there before she got out. Food could always be reheated.

I set the tray down on her bed and made my way to the doorway of the bathroom. Fuck, Izzy could sing! She sounded great- it was a song I'd never heard before, but damn if she wasn't singing the crap out of it.

_Don't be dirty ice cream, baby  
We could fall in love but it's too early to be calling me like that  
Stop calling, stop calling  
It's not indecision, just my female intuition  
Telling me you can't be calling me like that  
Stop calling, stop calling _

Hmm… was she trying to tell me something?

I shook my head at my paranoia. _She's just singing a song, Edward. Just because you were thinking of dropping the "L" word doesn't mean she's thinking about it, too. You're reading too much into it._

I quickly shucked my pants and boxers and slid the curtain open.

"Edward!" Izzy screamed, breaking off mid-note and turning around, clutching her chest. "You scared the shit out of me!"

I grinned. "Sorry, baby. I just wanted to surprise you," I added, sticking my bottom lip out in a pout.

She glared at me. "Don't stick your lip out like that and think all is forgiven. I'm going to think of 'Psycho' every time I'm in here now."

I stepped toward her and gathered her in my arms. I leaned down to lick some water drops off her neck and shoulder, and she shivered. "Aw, don't be like that. I can apologize, if you want," I said huskily.

"I'm listening," Izzy replied, leaning her head back so I could have better access to her neck.

"Why don't I just show you?" I released her, and she whimpered, but then she moaned as I got down on my knees.

"Oh, God, Edward," she said, before I even touched her.

"What, baby?" I asked, blowing softly on her sex.

"Holy shit, don't stop."

I smiled and dove right in, causing Izzy to shriek and grab my head roughly with her hands. I lapped at her slit, tasting the ambrosia that was Izzy mixed with the water sluicing down her body, and I squeezed my eyes shut to savor it. Izzy's hands loosened a little and began rubbing my scalp.

"Put your leg up," I said against her pussy, gently shoving on her right leg. She lifted it shakily and placed it on the edge of the tub, and moaned loudly at the better access I had.

"Fuck," she whispered. I moved from her clit down to her entrance, flicking my tongue inside, and she convulsed.

"Don't slip," I warned, before resuming the tongue fucking.

"Ah… ah… Edward!" she screamed as I moved back up and bit her clit softly. I was loving the obvious reaction she had to me- it made me feel like Goliath. If only I could do this before every game, no other school would have a chance. I'd walk onto the field, insides singing from my adrenaline high, thinking about how all those unlucky bastards were going to get it because I'd just made the sexiest, most beautiful woman I know come all over my face. After that, throwing touchdowns would be a piece of cake.

I slid two fingers inside her as I worked her clit, and she was done. "FUCK!" she yelled, her legs shaking and her hands twisting almost painfully in my hair.

I kissed her pussy gently, bringing her down from her orgasm, and then stood up carefully. Izzy's head was still thrown back, right in the spray of the water, and I pulled her toward me. "Are you trying to drown?"

She raised her head and opened her eyes- they were clouded over in ecstasy. "No," she finally answered. "I'm trying to cool down. You put my whole body on fire just now."

I grinned cockily. "Really?"

Izzy had recovered enough by then to narrow her eyes at me. "Don't let that go to your head, big boy."

"I'll show you a big boy," I growled, and yanked her up against me. She yelped but jumped up enough to put her legs around my waist. I turned to lean her against the wall and quickly slid my cock inside her heat.

Breakfast was going to have to wait a little longer.

~*~*~*~*~

We were walking across campus to class when I remembered Izzy's singing from earlier. I'd been… distracted from asking her before.

"Hey, I was going to tell you, you're a great singer," I said.

Izzy looked up at me suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you this morning, before I jumped in with you," I explained.

She looked relieved. "Oh. Well, thanks. Everybody likes to hear their shower singing isn't as bad as they thought!" she laughed.

I grabbed her hand and kissed it. "You were really good, though. Like seriously good. Have you ever thought about performing?"

She wrinkled her brow. "Not really. You're very sweet to say that, though."

I shrugged. I guess the attention thing would be an issue, anyway. Maybe I could take her to a karaoke bar, see how she does…

Izzy stopped abruptly, which pulled me to a stop since we were still holding hands. "What the fuck?!" she yelled, and immediately turned and began running in the direction we'd just come.

"Izzy? What's going on?" I chased after her, confused.

She turned around the corner of a building and stopped. "Didn't you see the cameras outside our classroom building?"

I looked back around the corner, but she hissed and pulled me back. "What?"

"There were cameras. Waiting outside our building."

I rolled my eyes and peeked around the corner. I immediately relaxed and straightened. "Oh, that's just the ESPNU guys. I guess today is the day they want to follow me. Did I forget that?" I mumbled, running a hand through my unruly hair. Izzy was having a huge effect on my ability to focus on anything but her. I wasn't really complaining, but I wished I'd dressed nicer.

Izzy grabbed my arm. "You didn't tell me ESPNU wanted to follow you."

I sighed. "I told you they were doing a piece on me."

"But you didn't tell me they wanted to follow you around! I would have skipped today if I'd known that."

"Izzy, what is your deal? So they follow me around for one day. You're in one class with me, so there might be two, maybe three minutes of footage of us walking? If you're going to be my girlfriend, you're going to have to get used to a little spotlight!"

Izzy's eyes flashed. "Well maybe I don't want to be your girlfriend then! I didn't know-"

"Didn't know what?" I exploded. "That I'm USC's starting quarterback? Are you joking?"

"I knew that," she huffed. "I meant I didn't know there was so much publicity surrounding that."

"We're headed for the national championship, Izzy," I said, calming slightly. "I'm in the running for the Heisman. Of course there's going to be attention."

She rubbed her hand between her eyes in frustration. "Look, I don't want to be filmed, okay? Go ahead, I'll call you later."

"We're not done talking about this," I warned. This attention thing was seriously getting out of hand.

"Fine," she snapped, and turned to stomp off to the parking lot. I sighed. As mad as I was at the situation, all I wanted to think about was her cute little ass twitching in her agitation.

I walked around the corner and continued on to our classroom building. "Hey, Erin," I said easily, walking up to her.

She smiled widely. "Hey, Edward! So we're just going to follow you around today, like 'A Day in the Life of a Winning Quarterback' kind of thing. Cool?"

I tried to return her smile, but probably didn't succeed. "Sure. Let's go."

**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! God, if I'd known sex was all you guys wanted, I may have tried to work it in earlier. :) Let me know what you think!**


	9. Paparazzi

**Chapter 9- Paparazzi**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

God, I was such an idiot.

I drove home from USC's campus in tears, feeling sorry for myself and nearly causing a multiple-car pileup and the death of an innocent biker. When I finally pulled into my driveway, I sat in the truck and cried some more, angry for feeling sorry for myself when this whole situation was my own damn fault. The condemnations rang in my head:

I should have told Edward already what I did for a living.

I shouldn't have lied about it in the first place.

I shouldn't have started a relationship with Edward anyway, so I didn't have to lie.

The last one hurt the worst. We'd only been dating a few short weeks, and already I couldn't imagine my life without him. He'd been so wonderful, making me feel special, and yet like a normal human being. It had been so long since I'd felt that. And he even made me write better music. I was a better Lady Bella because of him. How ironic was that?

I finally pulled it together and strode inside my house, wiping my face of my tears. Rosalie opened the door when I got there and looked at me sympathetically.

"He found out?" she asked, ushering me in.

"No."

"You told him?"

"No."

She frowned. "You broke up because of something else?"

I flopped onto the couch and Rose sat next to me. "No, we're not broken up. At least, I don't think so. Maybe. I just freaked and ran and who knows what he's thinking of me right now." I sighed and leaned my head on her shoulder.

"What happened, Belly?" she asked softly.

"We were walking up to our classroom when I saw cameramen standing outside. I flipped out, thinking the paparazzi had gotten a tip or something, and ran and hid behind another building. Edward followed and told me they were there for him, some piece he's doing for ESPNU, and then he yelled at me about how I shouldn't be his girlfriend if I can't handle a little attention." I shook my head sadly. "He's right. I shouldn't be his girlfriend." This caused the tears to return, and I didn't fight them.

"Aw, honey, your reaction was understandable. Your school is the one thing you have for yourself. Well, and now Edward. You acted quickly, rashly, and yeah, it sucks, but I would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"But you should have seen his face!" I wailed. "He looked so mad. He said I've been leading him on."

Rosalie was quiet for a moment, and I began hiccupping from all the tears. I finally couldn't take the silence anymore and moaned, "What?"

She took a deep breath. "I hate to say it, Bells, but you _have _been leading him on. You haven't told him about Lady Bella, and she's going on tour as soon as the semester is over, which is about six weeks away. Were you planning on staying with him during that? If so, when were you going to tell him? Did you think he wouldn't notice you being gone for nine months?"

"I was going to tell him soon," I mumbled. I just didn't want to, because I was afraid he'd leave me. Now he was going to leave me anyway, because I was a freak afraid of cameras.

Rosalie patted my leg. "I feel for you, babe, I really do. It's clear Edward is great for you, he makes you smile and laugh so much. But I don't think you thought through what being with him meant. He's not just any guy- he's kind of famous in his own right. That adds another complication, on top of all the rest."

"I know," I sighed. "He's been upset that I haven't made it to a game yet."

Rosalie snorted. "I can't believe you're even thinking about going to a football game. Bella Swan, watching organized sports. Ha!"

"Laugh it up," I said. "Wait til Emmett wears you down. You'll be decked out in cardinal and gold in no time."

"I am not going to date Emmett."

"Sure you're not," I laughed. "And Lady Bella's hair is my natural hair."

Rosalie joined in my laughter, and I was glad she'd made me feel better. At least for a little while.

I still had to face the music, though.

Edward called after his football practice and asked if he could come over. It was obvious from his tone that he wanted to talk, and I became a nervous crying wreck again after I made Rosalie leave. He was going to dump me, and though I'd been dumped before, I was pretty sure this one would rip my heart out.

What a great time to finally face the fact that yes, I was in love with him.

When he knocked on my door, he looked so sad it made me want to cry more. Then he saw my blotchy, tear-stained face and jumped inside to wrap me in his arms. "What's wrong, baby?"

"You're going to dump me," I sobbed into his chest. "And I don't want you to," I added petulantly. _ God, Bella, way to make him want you._

"Who said I was dumping you?" Edward asked harshly.

I leaned back to look at him. "I know you're going to. You're mad at me, and you have every right to be. I've been acting all weird, and-"

He cut me off with a finger on top of my lips. "Izzy. Calm down. I'm not dumping you."

"You're not?" I tried to squash the hope blossoming in my chest, but it wasn't listening to me.

Edward smiled his gorgeous crooked smile. "No, baby, I'm not. Just because we yelled at each other means I want to dump you. Quite the opposite, actually."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "Watching you stomp away was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen. If I didn't have to go to class and shepherd ESPNU around, I would have dragged you back to the car for angry makeup sex."

My eyebrows shot into my hair. "Seriously? You're not mad?"

He sighed. "No, I'm not mad. I guess I just don't understand what the big deal is. It's not like they're around all the time, like with those kids from that vampire movie. They can't catch a break from all the attention. I just have to do interviews here and there, most of the time nobody cares at all what I'm doing."

"I'm sorry I freaked out," I said, leaning back into his chest. I took a deep breath. This was my chance, I needed to just tell him about Lady Bella and accept the consequences-

"We can still have angry makeup sex, you know," Edward whispered in my ear, and bit my earlobe. I shivered automatically.

"There's something I wanted to say-"

He cut me off again, this time with his mouth, and all my good intentions about coming clean flew out the window. "No talking," he mumbled against my lips, then deepened the kiss by shoving his tongue in my mouth. I sucked on his tongue, then massaged it with mine, and Edward did the sexy groan thing that I wanted to record, and I was done for.

"Bedroom," I ordered, and he swung me up into his arms and carried me into my room. He sat me down gently on the bed, and I could tell he wanted this time to be slower, special. My heart clenched and I knew without a doubt I would love this man forever, no matter what happened between us. Edward was different and would always be different from any other man I met.

He kicked off his shoes and undressed slowly, watching me watch him the entire time, and I became so turned on I could barely stand it. When he was completely naked, he came over to me and pulled my clothes away softly, kissing each new body part as it was revealed, worshipping my body with his eyes. Even though he'd never said it, I could feel the love in every movement he made.

When all my clothes were gone, he got down on his knees and pulled my hips to the edge of the bed. He winked at me playfully before laying one wet kiss on my pussy, and I moaned loudly. He began kissing and sucking at my clit, drawing even louder moans from me, and he took one hand and pushed on my chest gently to make me lie down. I squeezed my eyes shut against the amazing sensations Edward was making me feel.

When he began tongue fucking me, I completely lost it. "Edward!" I cried out, and came hard on his mouth. He continued to kiss and suck on me until my spasms were done and I was a quivering, sweating mess under him.

He placed one last kiss on my inner thigh before standing up and leaning over me. He smirked down at me, proud of his accomplishment, and I was so blissed out I couldn't even get annoyed.

"I thought we were having angry makeup sex," I managed to say.

Edward smiled at me. "I decided I'd rather love you more."

My breath hitched at the word. "Love?"

Edward got on the bed and pulled me up next to him, so we were facing each other. He drew his hand up and began caressing my arm, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. "Yes, love," he said softly, looking me in the eye so I could see the emotion in his.

There was no guile or fear there.

"Oh, Edward," I said, and leaned up to kiss him. "You have to know I love you, too."

A beautiful smile broke out on his perfect face, and I knew I would do anything to make this man smile like that all the time. "Really? I've been so afraid to say anything, convinced you would think I was crazy for feeling this much so fast."

I grabbed the hand still rubbing my arm and put it on my breast, over my heart. "You feel how hard it's pounding?" I asked, and he nodded. "I feel it, too."

Edward looked at me for a long moment, then leaned in and kissed me. It started out sweet, loving, but soon I couldn't wait any longer and opened my mouth to him. Our kiss became deep, Edward pulled me closer, and we spent the rest of the night showing each other just how much we felt.

~*~*~*~*~

I swallowed hard, pulled my USC cap lower on my head, and looked over to Rosalie. "Ready?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Quit looking so nervous. There are like, 80,000 people here. Nobody is going to notice just another fan, even if she is wearing entirely too much clothing for Los Angeles in November."

I laughed. She was right, I was wearing a bit too much, so I got out of the car and pulled off my cardinal-and-gold scarf and my USC sweatshirt and threw them in the back seat. I was instantly more comfortable, but I couldn't help but feel more exposed as well. I shook my head. _Rosalie was right. Rosalie was right._

She got out of the car and shut her door. "Let's go, then. Kickoff is in less than fifteen minutes."

I shut my door, locked the car, and followed her and all the other late arrivers up to the gates.

After our amazing lovemaking Thursday night, Edward had asked softly if I would attend his game this weekend. I knew it was very important to him, and despite my concerns about being so out in the open, with cameras and reporters all around, I agreed. I really wanted to watch him play, and the likelihood that Perez Hilton was hanging around a USC football game was slim to none, so I decided to take my chances. I'd forced Rose to come with me so I'd have another set of eyes peeled for any paparazzi, as well as someone to run interference in case a fan happened to recognize me. I was pretty much the opposite of Lady Bella right now, with no makeup and casual clothes on, but sometimes people surprised you with their keen eye.

We went inside and found our seats surprisingly easily, with all the people milling about. I could feel the nervous energy all around me, as the sea of Trojan fans hoped excitedly for their beloved team to continue their winning streak so they could go to the national championship. I saw more than one number eight jersey, which I knew was Edward's number, and it made me smile.

A lot of stuff about the start of the game happened that I didn't really follow- I hadn't ever watched a football game before meeting Edward- but I knew we had the ball first. The people around us were clearly die hard fans, screaming at the referees, the players, and generally taking this game entirely too seriously. Rosalie was picking at her fingernails, clearly bored, while I was too busy watching Edward to focus on anything else- any time a player from the opposing time came near him, my heart seized up and I clenched my hands to my face, worried to death he was going to get hurt.

"Calm down, would you? He'll be fine," Rosalie said. "You're making _me_ nervous, sitting over strung tight as a violin string."

The man in front of us turned around. His entire face was painted cardinal and gold. "Who are you worried about?" he asked kindly.

I didn't want to give him too much information, so I said, "Well, all of them, really. But especially the quarterback. He's not even looking when those big guys are running after him."

The man laughed. "He's looking to find an open receiver, that's why. But don't worry, we have plenty of big guys on our side to protect him. They're watching the other team's big guys for him. Like, look," he said, pointing at the play on the field. "You see number 67, that really big guy? That's McCarty. He's the best in the league. He would never let anybody get by him."

Rosalie suddenly took an interest in our conversation. "McCarty's the best?" she asked, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably.

Another man, on the other side of Rose, chimed in. "Oh, yeah. He's easily the best guard we've ever had. Probably go to the NFL next year. Shameful," he added, shaking his head.

"Why? Isn't that a good thing?" I asked, confused.

"For him, yeah!" Painted Face said. "But for us, it sucks! His backup is nowhere near his talent level."

Rosalie smiled, and I smirked back at her. "What?" she asked defensively. "I'm glad we have such good players, that's all."

"Sure, sure," I said, winking at her. I heard the whole crowd gasp, and then a bunch of people started screaming obscenities, so I looked at the field. I cried out- Edward was lying down, crushed under some huge player. "What happened?" I asked, panicked.

Painted Face shook his head in anger. "Cullen got sacked."

"Sacked? What does that mean?"

"It means the other team got to him before he could get rid of the ball. We lose yards."

I didn't care about all that- I just wanted to know if he was okay. "But what about him? Is he hurt?"

Painted Face pointed at the field again. "No, he's fine. Look, he's getting up." The entire stadium started clapping.

I frowned. It looked to me like Edward was limping on one side. "He doesn't look fine," I grumbled.

Painted Face turned to look at me. "Are you sure you don't know him? You seem to care an awful lot."

"I just don't like sports where people beat each other up," I replied quickly. "It seems inhumane. Like we've gone back to Roman times, or something."

The guy on the other side of Rose started laughing. "Well, we are at the Coliseum, sweetheart!" All the fans who could hear us joined him in laughter, too, and my face burned with embarrassment. I clearly should have had Edward explain some stuff to me before coming here- I looked like an idiot.

The rest of the half was spent this way, me cringing every time Edward got hit, only able to breathe when the other team had the ball, and Rosalie trying to pretend she wasn't interested but I knew she was watching Emmett out of the corner of her eye. At halftime, USC was up 14- 3, and the bands were going on the field for the halftime show.

"You want something to eat?" I asked Rose. "I'm starving."

"Sure, let's go," she said.

We wended our way through the crowd, holding hands so we didn't get separated by the masses, until we were standing in an extremely long line at a concession stand.

"I don't see anything remotely healthy on that menu," Rosalie sniffed.

"Come on, Rose! Live a little! We're a college football game, we should eat college football food."

She raised her eyebrow at me. "If I recall correctly, _somebody_ is going on tour in less than six weeks and needs to be in tip-top shape. Eating pretzels and hot dogs is not conducive to that."

I groaned. "One meal won't kill me. I'll have grilled chicken salad for dinner."

Just then my phone in my pocket buzzed. I pulled it out, and it said I had a text from Edward.

**R u here?**

I smiled and typed back quickly.

_Yep. R u allowed to text me?_

His reply was instantaneous.

**No. But I wanted to make sure. Ur worth it.**

I smiled even wider.

_Ur doing great! But don't get in trouble for me._

We'd gotten a little closer to the concession stand when he finally replied.

**Thanks baby. See u after the game. Love u.**

My heart soared- it was still so new and wonderful hearing that from him- and I was sure it was written all over my face. This was confirmed when Rosalie snorted, "Texting loverboy? Shouldn't he be listening to the coaches, or something?"

I shoved my phone in my pocket after I texted back that I loved him as well. "You're just jealous Emmett isn't blowing up your phone right now."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to face the front of the line, but I saw her surreptitiously check her phone a few moments later. I hid my smile and tried to decide whether I wanted nachos or a hot dog with all the trimmings.

After another twenty minutes in line- seriously, it seemed like the entire crowd was getting food at the exact same time- we went back to our seats, loaded down with drinks and snacks. Rosalie had caved and bought a cinnamon pretzel, while I'd decided nothing said sports like nachos with lots of cheese and jalapenos. The second half had already started, and the other team had the ball, so I could relax and enjoy my food for the moment.

"Is this team any good? I mean, they can't stop Edward for anything," Rosalie finally said, sometime in the fourth quarter.

Painted Face turned around in shock. "Learned something, have we?" he asked, winking at her.

Rosalie smiled. "Anyone could tell that he has all day to throw the football. The other team's quarterback doesn't ever get to stand back there and look around like he does."

"Observant. Say, what's your name?" he asked, not-so-subtly looking at her chest. It was clear he'd just really looked at Rose for the first time, and liked what he saw.

Rose rolled her eyes at me- we were all too used to this- and crossed her arms over her boobs. "Jennifer."

"You don't look like a Jennifer," Painted Face said, still leering.

"Well, you didn't look like a creep before now, either," she retorted, raising her blonde eyebrow at him, challenging him to keep looking.

"I- I've never- I didn't-" he spluttered, and then just turned around. I tried to hold in my laughter, but the mortified look on his face had been priceless. I was sure he'd be bright red, but the garish face paint covered it up.

Near the end of the game, all the soda I'd consumed caught up to me. "Rose, will you come to the bathroom with me?"

"Sure," she said. "It's about time to blow this joint, anyway. The game's almost over."

"'Blow this joint?' Are you sure you haven't been spending time with Emmett?" I teased.

Rosalie reddened. "I may have talked to him on the phone once or twice."

"Get out! Why haven't you told me?"

"I was ashamed, after all the crap I gave you about Edward. But Bells, he's so nice, and sweet, and seeing him all sweaty and rough on the field today…" Rosalie trailed off, clearly dreaming about other times he could be sweaty and rough. I just smiled and joined the long line for the bathroom.

I finally got inside, practically dancing like a two-year-old who just got potty trained- they should really do something about the lines in this place- and did my business. Rosalie came out, too, and we stood together in front of the mirrors after we'd washed our hands.

"I've been thinking, about that song you wrote," Rosalie said, slicking on some lip gloss.

"Which one?" I asked, playing with my hair. I wanted not to look like I'd just sweated outside for three hours when I got to see Edward.

"That one about Edward- 'Bad Romance.' I really think that should be your first single off the new album."

I frowned. "But that song is so… angry. I wrote it when I still thought we couldn't be together."

"Yeah, but it's easily the best one, Bella. You need a strong single to start out with-"

But whatever Rosalie was going to say was cut off by a teenage girl standing behind us. "Bella? Your name is Bella?"

I turned around slowly. "Yes…"

Her eyes lit up. "Holy crap! I thought you looked familiar. Jessica, Angela, come here! It's Lady Bella!"

My eyes widened in shock. "No, no, you've got the wrong girl. My name is just Bella," I said, beginning to panic.

"It's ok, we won't tell anybody," the girl said, but at the top of her lungs. I could see people beginning to look at us. "Jess, Ang, get over here!" She turned to me. "Can I have an autograph?"

I looked at Rose, freaking out, and she moved to stand in front of me as the girl's friends joined her. "Listen, girls, we're just here to enjoy the game. We don't have anything with us. What if you write down your addresses, and we'll send you a signed picture?"

The girl pouted. "But nobody will believe me that I saw you! Wait! Can we take a picture?" she asked, and whipped out her cell phone. Her friends eagerly did the same, and I began hyperventilating. They couldn't take pictures of me like this, I was in my normal clothes, Edward might see…

"No!" Rosalie yelled, shocking the girls into silence but drawing even more attention.

"Rose," I pled, wanting to run away but frozen in place by fear. I couldn't catch my breath. God, why hadn't I told him already? This was going to ruin everything…

"Look, I'm sorry, but she's not in costume right now. Find me at an album signing or something, remind me who you are, and we'll get you a free CD," Rosalie promised, shoving me towards the door.

"Ugh, you're so not cool!" the girl yelled. "Lady Bella sucks!"

As soon as she said the name, other women in the bathroom whipped their heads around, trying to see what was the cause of the commotion.

"Did she say Lady Bella?"

"Is that her?"

"No way, she's way too plain!"

"Lady Bella is here?!"

I began crying, so scared about what Edward would say and so upset that I couldn't be nicer to these girls. But the one thing I'd always tried to protect was my privacy, and they were going to destroy that by putting up pictures of me as normal Bella on their Facebooks or Twitters. Rosalie and I shouldn't have been discussing Lady Bella stuff in a public place, plain and simple. I'd been too excited about seeing Edward…

"Come on, Bells! People are starting to follow us," Rose hissed in my ear. I stumbled over my feet and nearly fell as she dragged me out of the stadium and into the parking lot.

"God, Rose, what am I going to do?" I moaned, trying to breathe evenly and calm down.

"Just get in the car. We'll figure something out," she ordered, still shoving me through the rows and rows of cars. Did we really park this far away?

"Shit!" Rosalie said, and began running faster.

"What? What is it?" I asked, struggling to keep up.

Rose grimaced. "There's a paparazzo following us."

**AN: Dun dun dun! What do you think is going to happen?**


	10. The Fame

**The Fame- Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

I was ecstatic as we circled the field, celebrating with the fans. A win always felt good, even in a winning season and against a much lesser opponent. We only had two more games until the end of the season, where we would hopefully be picked to play for the national championship. I had never been more glad the Pac-10 didn't have a conference championship game- just one less hurdle we had to reach.

"Great job, Cullen!"

"Way to go!"

"Cullen for Heisman!"

"We love you, Edward!"

I grinned at the girls, slapped their hands hanging over the wall that separated them from the field, then began to make my way back to the locker room. Izzy and Rose were here, and I wanted to get a shower and get out before they got bored waiting for me. I wanted to celebrate with my girl.

I smiled wider at the thought of Izzy. She was everything I could have ever hoped for, and more. She was so beautiful, and caring, and sexy, and smart, and the best part was, she'd told me she loved me. Words couldn't describe how my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest at those words. I felt like I could conquer the world, with Izzy by my side, of course.

As I walked in the locker room, I got a bunch of back slaps and even a few ass slaps from my teammates. "Hey, Eddie, my boy, I hear my woman is here!" Emmett called from his locker.

"Your woman? Something happen I don't know about?" I replied, going over to my locker and stripping off my sweaty jersey.

Emmett grinned. "Just a matter of time, my friend, just a matter of time."

"You got a girlfriend, McCarty?" Garrett Smith, one of our wide receivers, asked.

"Not yet," he said.

"Not ever, if she has anything to say about it," I added. The guys all laughed and began making of fun of Emmett's "game" with the ladies.

I took the quickest shower on record, shoving a rookie out of the way, and was making my way back to my locker to get dressed when one of the guys got my attention. "Hey, guys, my girlfriend says Lady Bella was at the game!" Peter Crawford, one of our safeties, said, gesturing with his cell phone.

"Lady Bella?" Emmett asked, excited.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, she was here in her normal clothes. Only reason people found out was because someone recognized her, and she bolted."

I frowned. "That's sad. She's here obviously trying to have a good time, get a little escape, and people accost the poor woman."

"That's what happens when you're famous," Garrett chimed in.

"Yeah, Eddie, you should get used to it," Emmett cackled. "Pretty soon women will be chasing you from the stadium, too!" All the guys laughed, and I blushed- I hated it when they brought up my "ladies' man" reputation. Of course, my face burning only made them make more fun of me. Teammates.

"Hey, my mom got a picture of her running away!" Alistair English called, pointing at his Iphone. All the guys rushed over to take a look, and I shook my head and pulled on my pants. I couldn't understand why these guys were so interested, anyway- she was a girly pop star who sang bubblegum stuff. And celebrities came to games all the time, we played in southern California.

"Dude, Eddie, you should see this," Emmett said.

"Why?" I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion at his serious tone.

He grabbed Alistair's phone from his hand- Alistair didn't complain, because Em could easily swat him into last week- and walked over to me. "This looks like Izzy," he said, his voice low enough so only I could hear. "And I think that's Rosalie next to her."

"What?" I hissed at him, yanking the phone out of his hand. I looked at the picture- it was pretty blurry, but that was clearly Izzy running away from the camera, looking back in fear. It did look like Rose was running next to her, but all I could see of her was long blonde hair.

"How do you know that one's Rose?" I asked, pointing. "That could be Lady Bella, and Izzy just happens to be beside her."

"I'd know that ass anywhere," Emmett said, with no trace of sarcasm. "And why would Izzy look so scared like that?" He paused to make sure no one was close enough to listen in, then leaned even closer. "Has Izzy ever told you what she does for a living?"

I rolled my eyes, even though a warning bell was going off in my head. "She's a student, just like us."

Emmett shook his head slowly. "She only takes the one class with you, Ed. And she's clearly got money- her dining room alone looked like it was straight out of some Ethan Allen catalog!"

"How do you know what Ethan Allen is?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugged. "My mom is an interior decorator."

I handed back Alistair's phone and turned away to put my shirt on. "I'm not convinced. Alistair's mom could be confused, Izzy could be afraid of the crowd, whatever. There is no way Izzy is Lady Bella."

Emmett looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. "If you say so. But maybe you should ask, just in case. I've always felt something was a little off with her."

I laughed. "I can see just how that conversation will go. 'Hey, Izzy, baby, you don't happen to be an international pop star, do you?'"

He walked back to Alistair, gave him back his phone, then turned to leave the locker room. "Think about it, dude." Then he saluted me and headed out.

I finished dressing and left as well, thinking about what Em had said. That was definitely Izzy running away, all right. She was always extremely busy with unknown stuff, and she definitely had some dough. And she freaked out in front of those cameras…

I laughed to myself. Sounds like she's mafia!

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called her. It rang for a ridiculously long time- I was surprised I didn't just get her voicemail- and then she picked up.

"Edward?" she asked, sounding panicked.

"Is something wrong, baby?" I asked, immediately concerned.

"I just- I just- I can't-"

"Whoa, slow down," I said, picking up my pace. "Where are you? Are you still at the stadium?"

"No- we had to leave- I'm so sorry-"

"Okay, okay, take deep breaths, honey. Just breathe in and out, slowly," I soothed, trying to get her to stop freaking out. When I could hear the breathing over the phone, I asked, "Where are you? I'll come get you."

She took another deep breath before answering. "Rose took me home."

I frowned. They were supposed to wait for me, and we were going to go grab a bite to eat. "Okay… so I guess dinner is off?"

"I'm so sorry, Edward!" she cried, and I could hear her begin to panic again.

"Izzy, sweetheart, just calm down. It's fine. I'll just come there."

"I guess that's good," she said softly. "We need to talk."

My heart slammed into double time and I staggered to a stop in the middle of the parking lot. Holy shit. Was Emmett actually right for once? Was my Izzy really Lady Bella? Or was it something worse? Was she breaking up with me? Were the crowds too much for her?

"That never sounds good," I choked out.

She sighed heavily into the phone, and I could hear tears in her voice. "I wish I could say it was, Edward. I'll see you here in a few minutes." Before I could reply, she'd hung up.

I stared at my phone in frustration and confusion for an interminable amount of time, my head reeling. I didn't know what to think anymore, and I had a hard time nailing any thought down before it swirled away again. My eyes were darting around the lot, seeing my teammates leaving to go home to their normal lives, and I could barely comprehend how they could be so casual. Didn't they know my world was tilting off balance?

I finally recovered enough to get to my car, but I have no idea how I got to Izzy's place. I was driving on complete autopilot, and I'm sure it was just as bad as if I'd been drinking. All I knew was, I blinked, and I was standing in front of Izzy's front door.

Before I could knock, Rosalie opened the door. She looked behind me, checking the street for some reason, then ushered me in quickly.

"Nobody followed you?"

I frowned at her. "No. Why?"

She sighed. "Just making sure." Then she grabbed her keys off the side table in the foyer and gave me a long look. "Look, Edward, I finally got her calmed down. Just try to be understanding. She loves you."

"What-"

She held her hand up, cutting me off. "This is between you and her. I'll have my phone on me in case she needs me." And with that, she left.

Now I was even more confused. Why did Rose look so sad? If we were breaking up, wouldn't she be happy? And what was the deal with asking me if someone followed me?

I shook my head in a futile attempt to get some clarity, then stepped further into the house. "Izzy?" I called, heading into the living room.

"In here," she called from her bedroom.

I took a deep breath and walked that way. I paused in the doorway, trying to get the courage to face whatever this was like a man instead of a pussy baby.

Izzy was pulling stuff out of her closet. I couldn't really tell from here, but it looked like a bunch of statues or sculptures, and some huge picture frames. She kept the backs to me, so I couldn't tell what the pictures were of. After pulling out several of the frames, she placed them in a row along the wall.

"I should never have done this to you," she began, her back still to me. "I am so very sorry, Edward."

I took a step towards her. "Izzy, don't do this," I pled. _So much for not being a pussy. _

She turned then, and the heartbroken look on her face tore at my heart. She was crying, tears running in tracks down her face, and her beautiful brown eyes looked so sad and lonely that I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and make her forget everything around us.

"Don't do what, Edward? Lie to you? Hide from you? Pretend to be someone I'm not? I've already done all those things!" she cried.

I took another step in her direction. "What are you talking about, baby? Whatever it is, we can work it out. I love you."

"Don't say that!" she cried, and turned away again. "I don't deserve it," I heard her mumble.

I finally stepped all the way over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. She stiffened and pulled away, and I felt a piece of my heart tear away and go with her. I was suddenly very scared. Whatever this was, it was not going to end well.

"What have you seen?" she finally asked, after a long moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you see the pictures?"

_No way…_

I swallowed hard before I answered. "I saw _a_ picture. On someone's phone. You were running away, looking scared to death."

She sighed. "I was." Then she just stood there, back to me, and you could hear a pin drop in the dining room, it was so quiet.

"Look, would you just tell me, already? I'm dying over here."

Izzy turned around, finally, and her tears had not slowed. "My name is Isabella Swan. But… to the rest of the world… I'm Lady Bella." She walked down the line of pictures, and slowly turned them around. I saw that they were a series, demonstrating how she went from my beautiful Izzy to what must be the famous Lady Bella- I wasn't sure, I'd never seen her before. When she got to the end, her whole face scrunched up, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, as if to hold herself together. "I've lied to you from the beginning, Edward, and I'm so sorry. I had no idea we would end up like this, and I was just trying to protect myself."

I staggered back to her bed and fell on it, stunned. So Emmett had been right- Izzy, I mean Lady Bella, had been hiding something. Something huge. Something life changing.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I said, scrubbing my hands over my face, trying to make this all make sense.

"Well, at first, you were just like everybody else- somebody I had to fib to in order to keep my private life private. But then I got to know you, and then I fell in love with you, and every day I became more and more scared you were going to leave if I told you the truth. So I kept telling myself I would tell you the next day, but then I'd chicken out…"

I shook my head. "This is big, Izzy. I mean Lady Bella. Or whatever I'm supposed to call you." I laughed then, and it was a joyless sound. "Jeez, doesn't that sound familiar. I should have known."

"Edward, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed, and she crumpled onto the floor. "I can't even tell you how much you mean to me, and I hate that I did this."

"I should have seen the signs," I said, trying to ignore her crying because it was killing me. I wanted to hold on to my feeling of betrayal. "Always being busy, always so afraid of people looking, so sketchy about your past and what you were doing…" I shook my head again at my own foolishness. "I let my feelings for you make me completely blind."

"Can't you see, Edward? That's what happened to me, too! If I were smart, I would never have gone out with you."

"Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, stung.

She sat up suddenly, and crawled over to me on her knees. She wormed her way between my legs and put her hands on my thighs, and I cursed my body for responding to her like it always did. "Yes, Edward! If you were just another guy, I would have smiled at you that first day and then never said anything else. But you… you're so special, and perfect, that I ignored all the warnings from my head and Rosalie and fell for you anyway. You, Edward. Only you."

She tried to get me to look at her, and I jerked my head away like a toddler. I still wanted to be mad. "What makes you think I wouldn't understand? I'm in a public position, too."

She snorted. "Edward, I can't go out in costume without being mobbed. In Japan, teenage girls camp out outside my hotel. In Italy, one guy even paid off hotel security so he could get inside my room to steal some of my clothes."

My hands clenched in anger. "Are you serious? What kind of security is that? Were you hurt?"

"No. I'm just trying to tell you, that's why I wanted to protect you from."

"You said you were trying to protect yourself," I accused.

"That's right. At first. But after I got to know you, I wanted to protect _you._ You don't deserve to have the kind of never-ending scrutiny and vicious gossip that I'm subjected to. It would kill me to think I made you a part of that," she said, rubbing her hands on my thighs. "I love you, Edward," she said quietly, and my heart clenched, like it did every time she said that.

I finally looked at her, and she looked absolutely terrified. I rubbed my thumbs on her cheeks, wiping the tears away, then left my hands cradling her face. "I'm not going to pretend that I'm suddenly okay," I warned. "I need some time to process. But I love you, too… Bella?" I asked, still figuring out what to call her.

She smiled tremulously. "You can call me whatever. I kind of like the idea of being your Izzy."

"You'll always be my Izzy," I said quietly. "Now I just have to fight the rest of the guys in the world, instead of just those at USC."

She laughed, then quieted and gazed up at me with love and hope shining in her eyes. "You don't have to fight anybody, Edward. I'm yours."

I grabbed her hands, then stood up and pulled her back with me to lie on the bed. She snuggled up as close as she could get, and I wrapped my arms around her and leaned my chin on her head.

"So you aren't leaving me?" she asked, nerves obvious in her voice.

"No, I'm not leaving you. I'm not making any promises if I find out you have a French husband or six illegitimate children, though."

She giggled, and her body moved against mine, and I willed my erection down. Now was not the time.

"I wrote a song about you," she said, after a long moment.

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course." She leaned her head back to look up at me. "You've inspired me so much, Edward. I was having a hard time coming up with anything for my next album, and then I met you, and I completed all of it in like three weeks."

I couldn't hold back my smile. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" she said, hitting my chest lightly. "Don't be so shocked. Don't you think of me when you're playing football?"

"Um… not really. Usually I'm focused on throwing the ball and not getting hurt."

She laughed. "Okay, I'll give you that. But you think of me other times, don't you?"

I ran my finger down her cheek. "Of course."

She blushed lightly and laid her head back down, and I reveled in my clear affect on her. While I was still upset she'd lied to me, this whole situation would probably end up being great for my ego. I mean, come on, my world-famous girlfriend wrote an entire album for me. What's better than that? Then I thought of something.

"Hey, Izzy?"

"Mmm?" she asked, trailing her fingertips up and down my chest.

"Will you dedicate your album to me?" As soon as the question was out, I regretted it. I sounded like such a conceited ass.

"Already did it," she said.

"Really?"

She stopped her fingers and sat up enough to lay on me, propping her elbows on my chest and leaning over me. "I told you, stop sounding so surprised. Of course I'm going to dedicate my album to the person who inspires me most. I wrote something quite nice, actually."

I smiled at her. "What did you say?"

"Well, now, you'll just have to buy it, won't you?"

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, and began tickling her sides. She squealed and tried to get off me, but I clamped down on her legs with my own and held her to me. "I don't get one for free?"

"You might- be able to- convince me," she said between peals of laughter. She was breathtaking when she was like this, laughing and carefree. It made my chest swell with pride- I did this for her.

I tickled her a bit more, then grabbed her face and pulled her down to kiss her deeply. I may not be very happy with her, but she was still my perfect girl and I loved her desperately. It was crazy how much I felt for her in such a short time.

"There's one more thing I need to tell you," she said, after we pulled away from each other for breath.

I groaned. "Oh, God. What's next? You're a hermaphrodite?"

She slapped my chest. "No, dumbass. You'd already know that, wouldn't you?"

I just grinned at her, but inside my heart was beating like mad again. I didn't know how much more the poor thing could take.

"I'm going out on tour at the end of the semester."

I let out my breath. "That's it?"

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "That doesn't bother you?"

"No, no, it does, but after everything that has happened, I thought it would be way worse."

"You understand I'll be gone for a good nine months."

I frowned. "Straight? You won't come home for any visits or anything?"

She shook her head. "Six here, then three in Europe. I hardly have any days off at all, never mind time to come back to LA."

"Rosalie shouldn't work you so hard."

Izzy smiled and laid back down on top of me. "It wasn't her, it was me. I was determined to get out of LA, get my mojo back. Little did I know, my mojo wears a USC jersey and was right under my nose," she said, kissing me on my neck.

"I guess I can always come visit you, right?" I asked, running my fingers through her gorgeous hair.

"You'd do that for me?"

I rolled us gently so that I was on top of her. Her legs fell open for me naturally, and I settled myself between them. I held my upper body off her slightly, so I could look into her eyes. "I'd do anything for you, baby." Her eyes melted and I leaned down to kiss her, slow and deep, showing her how much she meant to me, no matter what her name was.

Though I was content to just hold her, Izzy made it clear that she needed some physical reassurance from me. I got rid of our clothes, then made love to her gently, demonstrating that nothing between us had changed.

As I fell asleep though, with Izzy wrapped up in my arms, I wasn't entirely sure that was true.

**AN: We made it to 100 reviews! Woo hoo!**

**Thank you to everyone for your kind comments. They keep me inspired, and make me write this rather than my final paper. :) **


	11. Starstruck

**Starstruck- Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

"Are we done here?" I yelled at Rosalie, frustrated beyond belief. We'd been at the studio all day, working on _one fucking song_, and I was ready to snap. "Bad Romance" had been perfect about three hours ago, but Rosalie kept wanting to redo this phrase, or retry that verse. It was going to be the first single released, against my objections, and she wanted a masterpiece.

I wanted to go home to Edward.

It was funny how different things were when you were in love. I'd spent years working on my music and creating Lady Bella, forgoing friends, school, and a real life, and now that I was finally here, all I wanted was another minute in Edward's arms. He was being extremely understanding about the whole thing, and it just made me more grateful for him. I'd shown him several times in the past couple of weeks just how much his forgiveness meant to me… in the shower, in my hot tub I had in the backyard, on my dining room table, on my knees…

"What the hell, Bella? I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help _your_ career here," Rosalie yelled back.

"Oh, and you have no gain from any of this," I said, gesturing to the studio around us but meaning the enterprise that was Lady Bella in general.

She rolled her eyes. "Quit being a damn drama queen. Edward can wait."

I glared at her, wishing I had laser eyes like Cyclops so I could burn off some of her hair. Teach her to talk to me like that. "Besides the fact that Edward is, in fact, waiting on me for a very important dinner, I am fucking tired. Right now the thought of singing that song one more time might make me kill myself."

"There's that drama again. Are you sure you don't want to try acting?"

"That's it. I'm done," I announced, and walked into the recording room to grab my bag and my jacket. As I walked past the engineering room, I yelled back, "Don't call the rest of tonight, I won't answer."

I knew I'd pay for that tomorrow, but I was beyond pissed and didn't really care what Rosalie was going to demand of me. Edward had been planning this night for a week, some occasion he wanted to celebrate, and I was not going to let Lady Bella ruin it.

As I walked outside the studio to the parking lot, bulbs went off in my face.

"Bella! Over here!"

"What are you working on?"

"Can you tell us what the first single will be? When will it be released?"

The shouts of the few paparazzi were loud in my ears. I threw on my huge sunglasses and shouldered past them, but they kept following me until I got to my truck.

"What were you doing at the USC game?"

I paused, then flashed them all a tight smile before getting in and closing the door on them. I'd managed to avoid that question at first, threatening Rosalie within an inch of her life if she issued any kind of statement on my presence at the football game, and I guess I'd assumed they'd lost interest in the intervening weeks.

Guess not.

Well, I had no intention of opening Edward up to that kind of scrutiny. He had enough going on himself, with USC practically a shoe-in for the national championship and him playing so well he was sure to be invited to New York for the Heisman award ceremony. I did not want to make him the center of the media circus that was sure to ensue when it came out that infamously single Lady Bella had settled down with a well-known college football player.

As I drove home, I contemplated the idea of settling down with Edward. I loved him deeply, as crazy as that was in the short time I'd known him, and I felt in my bones that he was it for me. Though he was young, much younger than my 25 years, I knew I'd met the person I wanted for the rest of my life. The fact that he'd managed to distract me from my music, the other love of my life, was signal enough that he was special.

But he _was_ young. He hadn't even finished college yet, or decided if he was going to enter the draft at the end of the season instead of graduating. I didn't care either way, I just wanted him to be happy. Either choice meant separation, though. I wasn't sure how much longer I could play my game at USC without getting caught, and I certainly wasn't taking any classes for the next year at least because of my world tour. And if he did leave to go play football in the NFL, I surely wouldn't be able to join him unless he stayed in LA or went to New York.

I sighed. There were going to be some tough decisions that were going to have to be made within the next month or so, and I was dreading them. Dreading what they meant for us.

I pulled into my driveway and was surprised to see Edward standing on my front porch, holding tulips and smiling at me. He looked incredibly hot, in well-fitted black slacks and a deep green button up shirt that went great with his eyes.

"Hey, baby," he said, coming to greet me. As soon as I was out of the truck, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a sweet kiss.

"Hey, yourself," I said, pulling away slightly and taking the tulips from him. "Thank you, these are beautiful. And I am not complaining in the least, but what are you doing here?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Rosalie texted me, whining about how I made you leave the studio in the middle of recording."

I rolled my eyes and pulled away completely so we could go inside. "She's just pissed because I refuse to sing "Bad Romance" another 28 times."

"'Bad Romance?' Isn't that the one you wrote for me?" he asked, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice.

"It's one of them," I answered, unlocking the door and ushering him in. He took the tulips from me and went straight into the kitchen, to put them in a vase I assume.

"Why is it called 'Bad Romance?'" he called.

I threw my bag down on the sofa as I crossed to go into my bedroom. "I wrote it when I thought we couldn't be together. It's about being friends but wanting more," I called back. I walked quickly into my bedroom and whipped off my shirt, trying to change before Edward made it in the room. If he walked in on me naked, we wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

I'd thrown on a pretty blue blouse and was trying to choose a skirt to go with it when Edward came in. He surprised me by not even looking at me and flopping on the bed.

"Are you sick?" I asked, a little miffed.

"What? Why?" he said, not even lifting his head up to look at me.

I stomped over to the bed in just my shirt and underwear, forgetting the get-out-the-door plan. "You didn't even look at me. Normally you wolf whistle and then jump me before I have the chance to say 'Stop!'" I pouted, hands on my hips.

Edward finally leaned up to look at me, placing his head on his hand. "So what you're saying is, you're mad that I _didn't_ do those things?"

"Well, yeah. Don't you want me anymore?"

He laughed, and I huffed and started to walk back over to the closet. Before I knew what was happening, he'd pulled me down onto the bed and rolled me beneath him. "Baby, I always want you," he said, giving me soft, chaste kisses all over my face. "But I have big plans for our night and I didn't want it to start with you all sweaty and spent, moaning my name."

I grinned. "Moaning your name, huh?"

"Of course," he answered, with his signature crooked smile that made me weak.

"And you never do any such moaning of your own?"

"Of course not. It wouldn't be seemly for me to moan my own name after sex," Edward said, in a voice you would use when teaching a child.

I laughed, loudly, then pushed on his chest so he would let me up. "We'll see whose name you're moaning later tonight," I said, crossing back over to my closet.

"I'll hold you to that," he warned, his voice low and gravelly. Yum. My girly parts were tingling already.

I grabbed a grey floaty skirt that I really liked, then slid on my gorgeous black Christian Louboutin pumps that made my legs look hot. "Ready!" I said, leaving the closet and fluffing my hair a little.

Edward's eyes darkened. "You know, I really prefer you in nothing at all, but you look absolutely amazing in that, Bells," he said, looking me up and down. It was still odd to hear him call me that, but I knew he was trying to show me that he could fit in my life like all my other friends. I missed him calling me Izzy, but he could call me whatever he wanted, so long as he was calling me.

"Thanks," I said, fluttering my eyelashes exaggeratedly. "It's all for you, sugar."

He crossed the room and yanked me to him, plastering my body against his. "Better be," he said, before crushing his lips to mine. I moaned and grabbed his head, holding him to me, while his mouth ravaged me.

He pulled away suddenly, and I whimpered in protest. "I really want to take you out, baby," he said, sounding like he'd much rather stay in, as well.

I nodded, though, and straightened my clothes before accompanying him to the front door after grabbing my purse. "What's the big deal, anyway?" I asked.

He turned to me and grinned. "It's our one month anniversary."

"We've been dating longer than that," I said, confused.

He placed his hand softly on my cheek, and drew it down past my collarbone to just over my heart. "It's our one month anniversary of saying I love you," he said softly, his green eyes blazing into mine.

My heart melted and I reached up to cup his cheek. "You are a dangerous creature," I said tremulously, touched beyond words that he even remembered, never mind decided to celebrate it.

"It's been the happiest day of my life, so far," he answered seriously. He leaned down to kiss me then, and we didn't leave the house for another twenty minutes.

~*~*~*~*~

"Ugh, I am so full. Rosalie is going to kill me," I moaned, leaning back in my chair.

Edward grinned. "Eh, she's already mad at you for leaving the studio early. This is nothing, in comparison," he said, gesturing to the empty plates littering the our table.

"Nothing? Edward, I ate pasta, bread, vegetables, and tiramisu! That's like my whole day's caloric allotment right now."

He rolled his eyes. "Live a little. How often do you get a one month anniversary with _moi_?" he asked, batting his eyelashes at me and smirking.

I leaned over to kiss him gently. "You're right. Rosalie can suck it."

He snorted. "She probably already is. Emmett hasn't been bugging me about her lately."

"No, they haven't done anything yet," I disagreed, shaking my head. "Otherwise she wouldn't be so ready to snap at me. She is seriously sexually frustrated."

"Good thing we don't have that problem."

"Yet," I said unhappily. "Wait til I go on the road. I'll be lucky to get ten minutes to myself to Skype with you."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I can work with ten minutes."

I laughed loudly and leaned to kiss him again. It was made easier by the fact that Edward had picked a very quiet, very small Italian restaurant that was made up of padded circular booths that were cut off from each other, so you never saw another patron unless they walked past your table. It was perfect for being alone, but eating a five-star meal. And rubbing Edward's leg, driving him mad…

"Stop it," he hissed, throwing my hand back down to his knee. "You want me to be able to walk out of here?"

The waitress came to drop off the check, blatantly eyeing Edward. She'd been doing it all night, and it was seriously pissing me off. I mean, hello, I was plastered against him.

"Baby," I said loudly. "Take me home or lose me forever."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Movie quote game?"

I rolled my eyes and scooted closer to him, draping my arm around him and placing my other hand back on his upper thigh. "No, I mean it. Take me home or lose me forever," I said again, then scraped my fingernails against his length.

He jumped, smacking his leg into the table and blushing like crazy. The waitress coughed, gave me the evil eye, then walked away. "What was that for?" he asked, a tad angry as he put cash in the check holder.

I sighed. "She was looking at you like you were a piece of meat ready for her to take a big bite out of. I didn't like it. You're mine," I said, kissing his neck, trying to make him forget his anger.

He gently pulled my face away from his neck and held it in his hands, looking into my eyes. "Baby, I didn't even notice her. I haven't noticed another woman since we've met. I thought I made that clear."

I shifted uncomfortably. "You did," I said, biting my lip. "But it doesn't mean all these girls, girls younger than me, aren't checking you out. You're extremely sexy, and they want you. It's written all over their faces."

He shook his head. "Bella, I don't care how old you are, or how they look at me. I want you. Only you," he finished quietly, then leaned forward to kiss me. It was soft at first, gentle, and then it quickly heated up, our tongues dancing together deliciously. I was about to pull away and suggest a hasty exit when a bright flash went off.

I wrenched my mouth away from Edward's to see a pap grinning at me, standing right at the edge of our table with his giant camera in his hand. "Would you like to make a comment, Lady Bella?" he sneered, then took another picture, the light blinding me.

"What the fuck?" Edward spluttered, then shot out of the booth.

"Edward, no!" I yelled, to keep him from doing something stupid.

"Edward?" the pap asked. Then his eyes widened. "I thought you looked familiar! Oh man, this just gets better and better," he said, a wicked gleam in his eye. He took one more picture of me sitting there, stunned, then took off.

"Why did you stop me?" Edward demanded, still standing at the edge of the table.

I shook my head sadly. "He just would have provoked you, then pressed charges. You don't need bad exposure like that."

"He had no right to interrupt us like that!" he fumed.

I grabbed my purse and slid out of the booth. I grabbed Edward's hand and pulled him outside to the parking lot, thankful there weren't a whole herd of paparazzi waiting for us. "That's what they do," I said. "They live for stuff like that."

Edward threw my hand aside and stomped to his Volvo, not opening my door for me like usual. He unlocked the car and slid inside, and I followed him slowly, trying to give him a second to cool off. I knew how rough it was, feeling like nothing was private or sacred anymore. I'd even tried to describe it to him, but I guess he hadn't really understood. I don't know if you can, until you experience it- having one of your most precious moments stolen from you, plastered all over the papers for the world to see.

I opened the passenger door and slid inside. Edward was leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed and his hands clenched into fists. "Are you okay?" I asked softly.

His eyes flew open. "No, I'm not okay! That… scum just interrupted us in a very private moment, taking our picture and laughing about it like it was okay! Now, tomorrow, there's going to photos of you everywhere, making out like a damn teenager in a restaurant!"

"You, too."

"What?" he asked, his green eyes burning with rage.

"There will be photos of you, too," I reminded him. "Didn't you hear what he said? He knows who you are. The story won't just be 'Lady Bella Makes Out in Restaurant,' it's going to be 'Lady Bella Makes Out in Restaurant with Star USC Quarterback.'"

He sighed and flopped his head back onto his headrest. "Great, just great. I really do not need this right now."

I was trying really hard to be calm and understanding, but Edward's little drama queen act was wearing thin. Now I knew how Rosalie must have felt earlier today. "Edward, you knew this was a possibility as soon as I told you who I was. We can't hide in my house forever."

"I guess I was more focused on the fact that you'd lied to me, rather than the fact that I had no more privacy," he spat, glaring out the window at the parking lot in front of us.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to keep my cool. "Look, I'm sorry. But this is my life. If you want me, you have to take all of me."

"Yeah, well, this part sucks."

I laughed joylessly. "Yes, it does."

We sat there in silence for a good ten minutes, Edward fuming and mastering his best glare while I sat patiently in the passenger seat, waiting for him to calm down. _This was his first time_, I kept reminding myself. _Everyone freaks out the first time._

Finally, Edward sighed. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"For taking my anger at that guy out on you. For yelling at you when it was clearly not your fault," he answered, reaching over to take my hand in his.

"It's okay," I said. "I know how much it blows to feel so exposed like that. I wish I could protect you from it, I really do." I took another deep breath, trying to steel myself to say what I knew I should have said a long time ago. "Maybe… maybe it would better if we took a break. I'm about to go on tour, you're about to play for the national championship… we don't need this stress on top of all that."

He furrowed his brow. "You don't want to be with me?"

"No!" I yelled. "No, I'll always want you," I said, more softly. "But I'd hate to think that all this paparazzi craziness ruined your playing, or your chance at the Heisman."

"Bella, let me worry about that."

"This is not going to be a one-time thing, Edward," I warned. "If that guy prints that Lady Bella and Edward Cullen, star quarterback are together, this will only be the beginning."

He brought the hand he was still holding up to his mouth and kissed it. "I know that. And I'll be better prepared next time, I promise. But I don't want to lose you, baby," he said, his voice sounding so sad it almost broke my heart.

"I don't want to lose you, either," I mumbled, trying not to cry.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he said, putting the key in the ignition and starting the car. I smiled at him, then turned to look out the window as we drove through Los Angeles back to my house.

When we got back, Edward was still very quiet. He came around to get me, then wrapped his arm around me and led me up to the front porch. "Can I come in?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "Of course." I could tell tonight was his night for needing reassurance.

I pulled him with me into my bedroom, then went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"A nice bath always helps me relax and forget," I said, adding a cupful of lavender bubble bath. The bubbles immediately began filling the tub, and the aroma of the lavender was very soothing. I lit a few candles I had scattered throughout the bathroom and turned off the overhead light, so we were bathed in a soft glow. Finally, I turned to Edward and motioned to him. "Come here."

He stepped out of his shoes and moved over to me, and I began unbuttoning his shirt. He was looking at my hands, watching me undress him, because I knew this turned him on. I reached for his pants, but as usual, had trouble with them. Guy pants always had so many buttons or clasps, or buttons and clasps, and I could never get them undone without struggling. I felt his smile as he gently pushed my hands away so he could undo them himself, and then I pushed them and his boxers down to the floor.

"Get in," I said, gesturing to the tub. He slipped off his socks and lowered himself into the water, hissing a little at the heat. I reached over to flip off the now-full water before slowly taking off my shirt.

I could feel his eyes on me, making my skin tingle, and I closed mine so I could enjoy it. I reached around to unclasp my bra, then let it fall to the floor before sliding my skirt down my legs. I heard Edward inhale sharply, and I smiled as I slowly slid my tiny g-string down to join my skirt. I opened my eyes then, and Edward was gazing at me like I was an oasis in the desert.

He held out his hand. "Get over here, now," he growled.

My smile turned into a smirk as I walked over to the tub and joined him, lowering myself so my back was to his front. I could instantly feel his hardness poking me in the back.

"I thought you wanted to relax," I said, as his hands found my breasts and began kneading them.

"This is relaxing," he replied, kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned softly and ran my hands up his thighs, dragging my fingernails just hard enough to leave light marks. They'd be gone by morning, but for now, I was marking what was mine.

He slid his hands down my torso and in between my legs, and he hissed as he brushed my wetness. "God, you're so wet for me," he breathed, slipping a finger inside.

"We're completely submerged," I teased.

"I think I can tell the difference," Edward said, and I could just picture him rolling his eyes at me. He began moving his fingers, and I began squirming. I reached back to grab his beautiful cock, and with the oily bath water it was easy to begin pumping him. I was okay with that for a minute, but the need to have him inside me became overwhelming.

"Stop. I want you," I said, gasping as he flicked my clit before withdrawing his fingers. He pulled me around to face him, and I thanked the Lord I had had a huge garden tub installed in this bathroom because I had just enough room to wrap my legs around his waist. I lowered myself onto him, and we both moaned loudly.

I was still for a moment, getting used to his size, and Edward opened his eyes to look at me. "I love you, Bella," he said softly, brushing a lock of hair from my face.

The intimate position we were in, all wrapped around each other, the beautiful sentiment, and the look of absolute adoration on his face all combined to overwhelm me. "God, I love you, too," I sobbed, trying to hold back the tears. Edward understood it wasn't upset crying and placed his hands on my hips to gently begin moving me on him, trying to distract me. I quickly became lost to the sensations, momentarily forgetting the heavy emotion I'd just experienced, and squeezed my eyes shut at the intense pleasure. I didn't even care about the water that was splashing over the sides as Edward and I moved faster.

Finally, after a long time, I could feel my orgasm building in my womb. "Edward, I'm close," I breathed, panting in his ear.

"Me too, baby," he replied, having returned to sucking on my neck. Thank goodness there wasn't a photo shoot tomorrow.

Our movements became infinitely faster and harder, until I was slamming myself down onto him and Edward was bucking his hips up forcefully. Suddenly, I felt the waves crashing and I cried out, moaning his name just like he'd said I would. Edward followed me, spilling his warmth into me as he moaned my name too.

We sat there for a long moment, holding each other close as our breathing slowed down. His arms were so tight around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder, trying to recover from the intensity we'd just shared.

Finally he began running his hands softly up and down my back. "The water is getting cold," he murmured in my ear, kissing it gently.

I leaned back. "I suppose we should get out then."

He smiled, gave me a small kiss, and lifted me off him. He got out, wiping himself down quickly with a towel, then grabbed another and motioned for me to get out. I flipped the drain and went over to him, where he wrapped me tightly in the towel and dried me very thoroughly, being careful of my now-sensitive parts. When he was satisfied, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom, pulling back the covers and lying me down. He tossed the towels aside and climbed in next to me, immediately coming over to wrap himself around me.

"I really am sorry about earlier," he said.

"It's okay, Edward," I replied, kissing his chest. "I know I act like I'm totally fine, but I'm just used to masking my feelings around paparazzi. You can't let them know they get to you."

"I just want you to be safe." His arms tightened around me, and I felt him give me a kiss in my hair. "I don't know what I would do if one of them hurt you, trying to get a story."

"I'll be fine," I soothed. "And don't even worry about them. Focus on what you need to do to win this weekend."

He laughed softly. "And what if I don't?"

I pulled away slightly to look at him. "Then you'll have a very upset fan on your hands."

He laughed again, and pulled me back to him. His laughter did interesting things to our bodies, and this time, we weren't so gentle.

**AN:** **Hmmm… I think our Edward has some issues he isn't facing. And Bella isn't much better, pretending the real world doesn't exist!**

**What do you think is going to happen to our pair? Let me know, I love hearing your ideas!**


	12. Lovegame

**Lovegame- Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

"So Cullen, I hear you have a pretty nice disco stick," Peter Crawford sneered in the locker room after practice on Wednesday.

The guys laughed, and my face burned in embarrassment and anger. Since the world had found out Lady Bella was dating Edward Cullen, quarterback for the Trojans, it had been a never-ending piranha fest with me as the bait. Bella kept telling me I'd get used to all the attention, and really, the attention I could handle. It was my teammates, people I'd considered very good friends, treating me differently and ribbing me constantly that was driving me crazy.

"Shut the fuck up, Crawford," I growled, and turned to my locker so I wouldn't punch him in the face.

"What's the matter, Eddie? Haven't been playing the 'Lovegame' recently? Got a little built up tension?" he continued, referring to Lady Bella's latest hit single. She'd written it before she even met me- it was the last single from her debut album- but it didn't keep everyone from assuming I was the one with a "disco stick."

I breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm myself down before I ripped him a new one, when I heard Emmett behind me. "You're just jealous that Edward has famous pussy all over his ass and you're lucky if Jessica 'I've-banged-the-whole-team' Stanley will touch you," he taunted Peter.

I turned to catch the look on Crawford's face, and it was priceless as the whole room dissolved in laughter. His whole face turned bright red, and I could swear I saw steam issuing from his huge elf-like ears. He clearly hadn't counted on anyone backing me up, especially since Emmett, my usual wingman, had been eerily silent this past week. I guess he'd decided to step up again, and I couldn't be gladder.

Then Crawford got a smug look on his face, and I knew I wouldn't like what he said next.

"So how is it, banging a dude? I heard that's why she dresses up like that- because she's packing downstairs," he said crudely, grabbing his crotch.

"I said, shut the fuck up!" I yelled, and flew across the locker room. I got in one good punch, feeling the satisfying crack of bone, before Peter reached out with his foot and tripped me so he could jump on top of me and wail on my face. I wriggled around like a caterpillar, trying to flip him off, but he had a death clamp on my ribcage.

"You like guys on top of you, Cullen?" he taunted, giving me a good one right on my cheekbone.

I grunted and moved my head quickly, avoiding another punch so his fist hit the concrete floor below me. He let out a cry of pain, and suddenly his weight was gone. I looked up to see Alistair English and a few other guys holding him off me, while Emmett appeared in front of me to keep me from attacking.

"You both need to calm the fuck down," he said angrily. "We've got the final game of the season this Saturday and you guys want to play who's got the bigger dick?!"

"This fucker started it," I spat, wiping blood off my temple before it got in my eye.

"I don't care who started it, I'm finishing it." He turned to Peter. "Now, you can be funny, but Bella is my girl and if you talk shit about her, you're talking shit about me. Say something about her again and you won't be fighting pansy-ass Cullen. Got me?"

Peter nodded slowly, and the guys holding him let him go. He glared at me before turning and going to the showers.

"Thanks, Em," I said quietly, after all the guys had gone back to dressing down.

"No problem," he replied. Then he gave me a serious look. "But what the hell were you thinking? He's just playing you, like we always do."

I nodded. "I know. It just seems more personal, somehow. All these people say all this shit about her and she can't even call them on it or defend herself."

Emmett shrugged. "It doesn't seem to bother her nearly as much as it bothers you."

"She's had more time to get used to it, I guess."

He shrugged again. "Besides, I owe you one for the advice you guys gave me about how to get to Rosalie," he said casually.

My mouth dropped open. "No way! She actually said she'd go on a date with you?"

Emmett puffed out his chest proudly. "Yep. All I had to do was tell her how drop-dead sexy she was, and how I needed to bone her like a fat kid needs cake, and she was putty in my hands. I took her out last night."

"Wow," I said, marveling that Bella's advice had actually worked. I guess all Rosalie truly wanted was for someone to talk to her honestly, just like Bella had said.

"Tell me about it," Em said, his eyes glazing over as he reminisced. "That woman has moves I've never seen before, and I've seen a quite a few. I swear to God, I'm in love."

I snorted. "No, Emmett, that's called lust."

"Well, whatever it is, it had me moaning like a porn star four times last night."

"Holy shit, Em! You already talked her into bed?!" I couldn't believe Rose would crumble so quickly.

He smirked. "Please, she was begging me to take her home fifteen minutes into dinner. Looks like you're not the only one with a disco stick, Cullen," he said, thrusting his hips suggestively.

I shook my head in amazement. Well, hopefully Rosalie would chill out a little now that she had Emmett to relieve some stress. She'd been a super Nazi ever since my date with Bella, the day Bella had walked out of the studio. She claimed she did us a favor by not ringing Bella's phone every five minutes, ruining our night, but I'm sure she's made up for it since then. I haven't had a single minute alone with Bella in days- there was always someone around, whether it was a stylist getting her ready for some promotion or Rosalie bitching about something or other. We'd even tried to help each other out in the studio bathroom once, but a sound engineer busted in and told us that the whole place had great acoustics… even the bathrooms.

I cleaned up quickly and left to head over to Bella's house. There would be several people there, finishing up Bella's costumes for the tour that was starting in just a few days, but she'd said I could come over for dinner. Pussy-whipped as I was, of course I said yes. I really should go home and study for finals week that was quickly approaching, but I was trying to grab as much time with her as I could before she left.

I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach as I pulled up to her place. Her tour and our upcoming separation were things we hadn't really discussed since she told me she was leaving. I'd mentioned then coming to visit her on a few stops, but I wasn't sure how often I could do that if I was training all the time for either the upcoming season or the NFL. And that was another stress- I still hadn't decided what I was going to do regarding football. We hadn't talked about that, either, because I think the plan was for us to just avoid talking about the future until we absolutely had to.

But the time to talk was coming, fast. She had her first concert here in LA on Saturday night, which of course was right during my game so she couldn't come watch my final game and I couldn't go see her. I'd really wanted to see her perform, but I guess it could wait. I was more upset about Bella not being at possibly my last game as a Trojan. I knew it was irrational, considering how many people were at our games, but I really liked the idea of being able to look up in the stands and see her there.

After her concert, she was leaving for nine months for her first big world tour. I was so happy and excited for her, knowing how hard she'd worked to get to this point (I may have Googled her, sue me). But being apart from her would be hard. She was the first woman I'd ever loved, and the thought of her being so far away, surrounded by hot male dancers and foreign guys, made my fists clench in jealousy. We could Skype, but finding time would be very difficult, especially with her in all sorts of time zones.

I sighed heavily and heaved myself out of my Volvo. We'd work something out- we just had to. I refused to let this amazing woman go just because she was an international pop star.

Her front door opened and she bounced out, a la Alice, and into my arms. "Baby!" she squealed, peppering my face with kisses. "I wondered where you were!"

I laughed and kissed her back. "I got a little held up after practice."

She pulled back suddenly and looked at my face. "What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?" she demanded, grabbing my face and twisting it around to look at the bruises I knew must be darkening.

"It was a little fight, that's all," I demurred, not wanting to tell her what Peter had said about her.

She put her hands on her tiny hips. "You better tell me exactly what happened right this second or I will get my phone and call Emmett," she threatened. She was so small, but she could be scary when she wanted.

I sighed. "One of the guys was asking me about my disco stick," I said quietly, trying to make it sound like that was it.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You wouldn't fight over that. What else did he say?"

God, she was like a damn dog after a bone. "Fine, I'll tell you, but don't get upset," I said, rewrapping my arms around her. "He asked me what it was like having sex with a guy, because he heard that's why you dress up," I told her softly, watching her eyes.

She immediately lost all her fire and melted into my arms, her eyes hurt and sad. "I'm so sorry, Edward," she said, lying her head on my chest.

"Baby, what are you sorry for? He's the prick," I replied, smoothing her beautiful brown hair down with my hands. I knew this soothed her.

"I knew all this stress would result in something terrible," she mumbled into my chest. "I guess I'm just glad it was one of your teammates and not a paparazzo."

I pulled back and lifted her chin with my hand to force her to look into my eyes. "Don't blame yourself, Bella. It was all me. I just couldn't handle somebody talking about my girl like that."

She smiled weakly, and it didn't reach her eyes. "You can't hit someone every time they say something bad about me."

"I certainly can. You can make me your bodyguard and take me on tour with you," I said.

Her smile froze, and I knew it was because I'd said the dreaded "T" word. "Come on, didn't you promise me dinner?" I said quickly, changing the subject.

She looked at me a long moment, her eyes unreadable for the first time since I'd met her, and then she finally nodded. "I made your favorite."

"You made me Bella-on-a-bun?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Perfect."

She giggled. "Then I guess I made your second favorite- spaghetti with meatballs and cheesy garlic bread."

I sighed dramatically. "I suppose that is acceptable," I said, then laughed and threw my arm around her shoulders as we headed inside.

After dinner, we were sitting in her living room, looking at several huge boards, one for each song, that had drawings of her set for the tour covered in little stick figures. "And for 'Bad Romance,' the lighting will switch to all reds and purples and you'll be chained to this pillar on the left while the dancers do their thing around you," Rosalie was explaining, pointing to one of the boards.

"Damn, there's going to be S&M in this show? I definitely need to check it out now," I joked.

"Ssh, I'm trying to concentrate," Bella said, hitting my thigh. I rolled my eyes and let my gaze wander around the room. I'd had no idea staging a tour was so… boring. If only Bella weren't so anal, she could have someone else (preferably Rosalie) do all this for her and we could be having some good times before she left.

My eyes fell on a big bookcase in the corner of the living room that I hadn't seen before. Well, I'd seen it, but it hadn't had all that stuff on it…

I stood up and crossed over to it, and realized Bella must have put back all the pictures she'd taken down when she was pretending not to be Lady Bella. There were dozens of pictures with some very famous people- George Clooney, the Kings of Leon, Ryan Seacrest, that hot girl from "Gossip Girl"… was that the Queen of England?

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

"What?" Bella asked, then saw what I was doing. She came over to me and wrapped her arm around my waist. "Impressed by my picture with Miley?" she teased.

"Hardy har har," I replied. "Did you seriously get to meet royalty?" I asked, gesturing to the picture of her bowing to the Queen. "And why in the world were you wearing such a hideous dress?"

She hit my arm, hard. "Watch it! That's my throwing arm. You're not the only one around here with talent, you know," I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "So you claim. Where are _your _trophies?" she asked, pointing to a line of Grammys and VMA moonmen I hadn't noticed.

"Just you wait. They'll announce the finalists next Tuesday, after the final games," I said, allowing myself to hope for the first time that I would win the Heisman. I wanted it for me, and for my family, but a large part of me wanted it to show Bella and the world that I wasn't a charity case- I brought things to our relationship, too.

She smiled and leaned up to kiss me. "I know you'll be one of them, baby," she said softly, gazing up at me with love and pride in her eyes. I was relieved that whatever was bothering her earlier seemed to have dissipated.

"Are you going to moon at each other all night, or can we get back to rehearsing?" Rosalie yelled across the room.

"God, Rosalie, we've been at it all day," Bella moaned, but went back to sit on the couch in front of the boards.

I checked the time, and groaned. "I really should be going, too. I know one of us talked the professor into letting her take the final early," I said, glaring at Bella, "but I clearly don't have your persuasive power and need to study."

Bella pouted. "I barely got to see you," she mumbled, standing back up to walk me to the door.

"I guess we can start getting used to it now," I said, trying to go for levity but really sounding strangled. I had no idea how I'd gotten so dependent on this woman in so short a time, but it had happened, and there was no going back.

Her eyes grew sad. "I'm going to miss you so much," she said tremulously. I could hear the tears coming.

"Aw, baby, don't cry," I said, pulling her into my arms in the foyer. "We still have a couple of days, right? And we'll definitely get to party after the game on Saturday."

She wiped at her eyes and snuggled into my chest. "I figure I'll be out of the Staples Center by eleven, and can meet you back here."

"Good. I've got plans for you," I said, nuzzling my face into her sweet-smelling hair.

She pulled back slightly to look at me. "Really?"

"Of course, silly. You think I'm going to let you go out on tour for nine months and not send you off with a bang?" I leaned in close, to whisper in her ear. "Several bangs, actually," I added, nipping her ear lobe with my teeth and licking it.

She shivered. "That is one promise you better keep, mister."

"No worries," I said, and moved down to nuzzle her neck. She let her head flop to the side, to give me better access, but then we heard Rosalie screeching from the living room.

"Good God, how long does it take to say goodbye? Come _on_, Bells!"

We both sighed and pulled away to look at each other. "I love you," Bella said, running her hand through my messy hair.

"I love you, baby," I replied, then leaned in to kiss her. It was shorter and sweeter than our normal kisses, but I didn't want to start something I'd have to finish in my dorm bathroom. I pulled away and kissed her nose and forehead before letting her go to open the door.

"See you Saturday?" I asked.

She nodded. "I'm sorry I'm going to be too busy until then."

I shrugged, trying not to let her see how upset I was. "It's okay. I should probably focus on my homework for once since I met you."

She smiled, but it was another of those sad smiles that didn't look sincere and I couldn't read. "Go, go. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Have fun with the Nazi!" I called as I headed out to the Volvo. She laughed and stood in the stoop, watching me until I'd backed out of her driveway and headed down her street.

~*~*~*~*~

I breathed in deeply, trying to calm my frayed nerves. It was the middle of the third quarter and we were up by a touchdown, but Stanford was trying their best to knock us out of the National Championship race. Their running back was wicked good- he would probably be up for the Heisman, as well- and our defense was exhausted already with another quarter to go. Everyone on the sidelines was jazzed, bouncing up and down and trying to tune out the screaming crowd, but I could tell our excitement was starting to show in our game. We'd made some elementary mistakes and were getting penalized for them.

Stanford got stopped in this series, finally, and had to punt. I took another deep breath and snapped my helmet into place, ready to go out there and score a touchdown to put us further ahead. We had not come this far to lose to fucking Stanford!

For the first down, I handed the ball off to English, our best running back, but he only gained a yard. On the next down, I threw to Smith, but it got batted down by a Stanford defenseman. Thank God it wasn't intercepted.

With nine yards to go to get the first down, I knew I would have to throw the ball deep. We set the play in the huddle and broke, and as I stood behind the center, about to call the snap, I looked out and read the defensive formation.

Shit! They were going to blitz. Fuck, I needed more time to let my guys get down the field…

The center snapped the ball and everyone started moving. I had the ball in my hands, ready to throw to the first open person I saw, but Stanford was everywhere! How did they have that many players on the field?!

I saw a Stanford tackler coming from the left out of the corner of my eye, and it seemed like slow motion. I tried to scramble out of the way, but he was too fast. He caught me around my middle, and I tucked the ball into my chest so I wouldn't fumble it. We'd lose yards and have to punt, but I still had another quarter to score.

As I was going down, though, the back of my head hit something extremely hard- I felt it through my helmet- and my neck snapped forward. Stars exploded in front of my eyes, and the pain was instantaneous.

Then everything went black.

**AN: Uh oh!**

**For everyone not versed in football, pm me and I'll try my best to explain what happened. I tried to use regular terminology as much as possible.**

**Also, the hit Edward experienced is based on one that put Tim Tebow, Florida's Heisman-winning quarterback, out of a game, and video can be found here, so you can picture it:**

**www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=8Cc8fwpYAHM&feature=related**


	13. Eh Eh Nothing Else I Can Say

**Chapter 13- Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

I took a deep breath as I prepared to sing the next to last song of my concert. This one slowed it down a little, before the big production of the last song, my most famous, "Poker Face." I smiled as I heard the happy, Caribbean-inspired beats begin.

_Boy, we've had a real good time_

_And I wish you the best on your way (eh)_

_I didn't mean to hurt you_

_I never thought we'd fall out of place (eh eh)_

_I had something that I loved long long_

_But my friends keep telling me that something's wrong_

_Then I met someone and babe,_

_There's nothing else I can say (eh eh)_

_There's nothing else I can say (eh eh)_

_I wish you'd never looked at me that way (eh eh)_

_There's nothing else I can say (eh eh)_

God, it felt so good to be back performing. I hadn't realized how much I missed it. The energy of the crowd, the wonderful feeling I get when my fans sing my music back to me… it can't be described. The only thing that would make this better was if Edward were here, so he could understand why I do this.

I finished the song, then segued perfectly into "Poker Face." It seemed like the entire crowd was screaming, it was so loud, and I was glad we'd spent the money on the better speaker system. I could see people dancing on the floor of the Staples Center, and thousands of flashes seemed to be going off every second. I was in my element, and loving it.

I smiled as I realized this tour was going to make my whole career- everything I'd worked for since I was a teenager, dreaming and writing songs in my tiny little room in Forks.

When I finally finished with a last piano flourish, the place erupted. I waved to the audience, blew them a kiss, then navigated carefully down the ramp (my last costume was beautiful, but the shoes were a fucking bitch to walk in) and back to the backstage area.

"Holy shit, I'm exhausted," I moaned, flopping onto the comfortable green couch in my dressing room. Rosalie was right, I should have been working out more- this tour was going to be extremely taxing, performing at this level five nights a week.

I pulled off the itchy blonde wig and patted at the sweat on my temple with a towel handed to me by my personal assistant on the tour, Charlotte. "Thanks," I smiled at her.

"No prob," she answered, smacking her gum. "Rosalie said you have five minutes to change before you have to talk to the press."

"What?" I groaned, sitting up. "I thought we did all that before the concert. I have stuff to do tonight."

Charlotte shrugged. "That's what she said."

"Can you get her for me?" I asked politely. I never demanded things from my staff- I was not a diva like Mariah or Whitney.

"Sure, boss lady," she said, leaving the dressing room. I kicked off the seven-inch thigh-high white boots, my feet heaving a sigh of relief, then struggled out of my skintight white leotard.

"God, I'm a masochist," I mumbled, after I was finally naked. My skin felt like it was breathing for the first time in hours. I gave my body a minute to relax, then found some jeans and one of Edward's USC tshirts. It wasn't fancy, but I wanted him to know I was thinking of him tonight while we were apart, like I would be every night on my tour.

I sighed. Tonight we would definitely have to talk, and I was not looking forward to it. I left for San Francisco tomorrow morning, and that was just the beginning. He'd be here, finishing up the school year, and then who knows? He could be playing anywhere in the country by the time I got back from my tour, and then I'd have to begin work on a new album. Tonight would be our last night together, for who knows how long.

My heart clenched at the thought. The concert tonight had proven, at least, that I could still find joy in my music and my fans. I'd been really worried that being away from Edward would dampen that, but it hadn't. If anything, I wanted to work harder, to prove myself worthy of such a wonderful man's love. Living apart would be difficult, but we could do it. _So long as those blonde football groupie bitches kept their paws off my man…_

Rosalie poked her head in without knocking. "What?"

"You said all the press would be before the concert," I accused. "You know I have plans with Edward tonight. I'm not talking to them."

She came inside and stood tall like an intimidating Amazon. This posture scared the crap out of the crew, but I was used to it. "There were a few that couldn't be here until now, including the _LA Times_. It won't kill you to be a few minutes late for Edward," she said, looking at me pointedly. She knew I understood how crucial these first interviews and reviews would be for the success of the rest of the tour and my upcoming album, so I nodded begrudgingly.

"Okay. But I'm not going to be in there forever. You've got thirty minutes."

She smiled brightly. "That's all I need. I'm glad you're being reasonable for once." She left, then ducked right back in. "You should probably put your wig back on, and a robe or something. You're still Lady Bella right now."

I sighed and did as she advised. I slipped off the jeans and wrapped a robe around Edward's tshirt, so I was covered up but I could still smell him, and I slid my last wig back on, checking it and my makeup in the mirror before heading out to the main area backstage where the press usually waited.

I smiled my fake smile as I saw the small group of guys and one older woman standing around. "Hey, fellas," I drawled, slipping into my Lady Bella affectations easily.

"Bella, what did you think of the concert?" the woman asked. I had no idea what outlet she was from, considering my fans tended to run much younger. Maybe she was the one from the _Times_, though I could swear that was Craig Turner…

"I think it went really well, for being my first in such a large venue. I was worried the quality I'm used to would be lost, but I think we did a good job of being intimate, while still reaching everybody," I answered, using Rosalie's canned response. I didn't usually like to be so robotic, preferring to be as real as possible while still being in character, but I was so tired. It would take up too much energy to engineer original responses right now.

"You're dating Edward Cullen, right?" one of the guys cut in, as the woman was opening her mouth for a follow-up question.

I gave him an irritated look and replied, "I don't talk about my personal life." I turned back to the woman and smiled at her, encouraging her to continue, when he butt in again.

"Then you don't care that he was seriously hurt tonight?"

I turned to him sharply. "What?"

The jerk smirked. "Edward Cullen, quarterback of the USC Trojans, was knocked out cold during the big game tonight. He's in the hospital right now. But if you're not dating him, you don't care, right?"

I barely heard him after "hospital." My vision turned hazy and it seemed like Niagara Falls was rushing in my ears. Edward was hurt? In the hospital? They normally tended to players in the locker room, it must be really serious… oh, God…

"I- I… I'm sorry, I have to go," I managed to get out, then turned and began hurrying down the hallway back to my dressing room.

"Can I take that as a relationship confirmation?" the jerk reporter called after me, and I would have turned back and handed him his ass if I wasn't so focused on getting to Edward. I was close to hyperventilating, I was freaking out so much, as I ran into Charlotte and Rose.

"Bella? What's wrong?" Rosalie asked, grabbing my arms.

"Edward- it's Edward-" I said, trying to pull away and get to the dressing room so I could get my car keys.

"What about Edward?" she persisted, still holding on to me.

"He's hurt!" I screamed. "Let me go, I have to get to the hospital!" I struggled against her, and she did release me, but followed after me after sending Charlotte to deal with the press.

"What happened? How did he get hurt?"

I flew into the dressing room, threw the robe off, and shimmied into my jeans. "I don't know!" I wailed. "All I know is, he's in the hospital after getting hurt in the game and I have to get there _right now_." I grabbed my phone and my keys and made to shove past her, but she grabbed my arm again.

"Not in this condition, you're not. I'll take you," Rose ordered. I reluctantly agreed- I really was in no position to drive- and used her hand on me to drag her around backstage and to the buses and cars waiting out back. I jumped into her red BMW and realized my hands were clenching and unclenching themselves. Rosalie noticed and said, "You've got to calm down. You've got four more concerts the next four nights."

"I don't care about that right now!" I yelled. "Could you please go faster?!"

She rolled her eyes at me but stepped on the accelerator as we pulled out of the Staples Center parking lot. "I don't care what happens, you are not canceling any upcoming concerts," she warned. "People have paid good money to see you, and you will perform for them."

I turned to glare at her, incredulous. "So it doesn't matter at all that my boyfriend is possibly dying in a hospital right now?!"

"He's not dying, Bella," Rosalie sighed. "He's probably just shaken up. All I'm saying is, this is not a reason to cancel on thousands of people." I huffed and turned to stare out the window, too freaked out to yell at her properly. "I knew he was going to be trouble," she grumbled under her breath.

Fury turned my vision red for a moment, and I took a deep breath so I wouldn't strangle her while she was driving us. When I felt a tad calmer, I growled, "Rosalie, this is the man I am in love with. You are talking about him like he's nothing but an unfortunate inconvenience. If you value our friendship _at all_, you will stop talking immediately."

She sighed again but shut up. I was shaking now, fear for Edward and fury at Rosalie's insensitivity battling for dominance, and I nearly took a dive into the sidewalk as Rose pulled up to the hospital entrance and I wrenched myself out of her car.

"I'm going back to the Staples Center to clean up this mess," she said quietly. "Call me when you know something."

I nodded slightly and ran into the entrance and up to the reception desk. The nurse manning the desk looked at me like I was a lunatic as I asked, "Edward Cullen?"

"Only family is allowed back," she said, shrugging her shoulders and staring at me like I was an escaped zoo animal.

"I'm his girlfriend!" I moaned. "You've got to let me see him."

She opened her mouth to deny me again, I could tell, but she was interrupted by another nurse at the desk. "Oh, my God! It's Lady Bella!"

My eyes widened and my hands immediately flew up… and felt my fake blonde wig rather than my own hair. So that's why she was looking at me like I was a freak- I still had on my full stage makeup and wig. Great. Now it would only be minutes for the paparazzi to get here, if they weren't on their way already.

"Let her back, let her back!" the second nurse urged. "She's his girlfriend, I saw it on TMZ." I rolled my eyes but smiled gratefully at her, since the first nurse was telling me which room I could find Edward in.

I flew down the hallway, nearly knocking into an empty stretcher and an old man in a wheelchair, until I was standing in the doorway to Edward's room. I immediately gasped- my beautiful, strong man looked so small and pale, sleeping in the hospital bed.

I rushed to his side and looked him all over for any large bandages or smears of blood. I don't know what I would have done if I'd seen any- I was horrible with blood, the sight and smell made me drop like a sack of bricks- but there was none and I breathed a small sigh of relief. I grabbed his hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV and looked around for someone to tell me what was wrong with him.

Thankfully, the moment I turned toward the door, a very nice-looking older gentleman wearing a doctor's coat walked in. His brow crinkled in confusion. "Are you… family?" he asked.

I realized by the look on his face I was still wearing the wig, so I quickly pulled it off and shook my long brown hair free. "No, I'm his girlfriend. Is he going to be okay?"

The doctor smiled at me and glanced at the machines Edward was hooked up to before responding. "Yes, he'll be fine. He suffered a mild concussion and we're letting him sleep off the pain medicine right now. He should be out of here by tomorrow morning, at the latest."

"Oh, thank God!" I gasped, tears welling up in my eyes. I'd been so worried- that jerkoff press guy had made it sound like Edward was practically maimed.

"His vitals look good. You can stay here for a little while, but visitor hours will be over in an hour," the doctor said as he left the room.

"Thank you," I called after him, returning my gaze to Edward. I brushed a lock of his bronze hair off his forehead, trailing my fingers lightly over his clammy skin. Even knocked out cold, Edward was a stunning man- his strong jaw, his cherry-colored lips, his lashes spread out on his cheek…

After staring at him for a few moments, I realized I still had my full makeup on. I decided to go down the hall to the bathroom to wash it off, since when he woke up, he probably wouldn't recognize me at first- he'd never seen me as Lady Bella in person.

When my face was clean and I was walking back to Edward's room, I heard two voices inside- a deep man's voice and a nice, clear woman's. I hung back, wondering if perhaps these people were his parents I'd yet to meet…

"He'll be fine, Esme," the man soothed. "It was just a mild concussion. The hit looked much worse on the big screen at the field, believe me."

"I'm just so worried," Esme answered. "This is why I didn't want him playing football professionally, Carlisle. It's just a matter of time before he gets permanently injured."

So these were his parents. I took a deep breath, nervous to meet the people who Edward talked about constantly- he spoke of his father with near hero worship- and stepped closer to the door when Carlisle began to speak. I froze when I heard my name.

"I wonder where that girl is… Bella? The one he was supposed to see tonight?"

Esme huffed in what seemed like annoyance. "You mean the girl he was ignoring his parents who flew in from Chicago for? The one he won't let us meet?"

I flushed in embarrassment. Edward hadn't told me his parents were in town for this last game- if he had, I would have insisted on sharing our dinner with them. I could only assume he was putting off our meeting to protect me in some way, though I couldn't imagine how...

"Maybe it's for the best she's not here," Carlisle continued. "I would have a hard time speaking nicely to her."

My eyes widened. His dad already disliked me? Why? Did Edward tell him about me being Lady Bella?

"Me, too," Esme said. "What is he thinking, dating some singer? And Emmett mentioned she's been distracting him. He has enough going on without adding a girlfriend to the mix, especially a famous one. I don't care how nice she is." She paused, then added quietly, "Though she's not much of a girlfriend if she's not here."

I backed away to the end of the hallway and leaned back against the wall. They say if you eavesdrop, you won't like what you hear, and I would have to agree. It was bad enough to find out his parents already hated me because of who I was, but to hear I was distracting Edward? It had to be bad if Emmett, someone who I knew liked me, was complaining about it. I mean, I'd known he wasn't paying as close attention to his studies, but he was so smart, I figured he knew what he was doing.

_Oh, God_, I thought as something occurred to me. What if he got hit because he wasn't paying attention? Because he was so focused on making tonight, our last night together, perfect for me?

I moaned and slumped down the wall to the floor. I'd been worried about pursuing a relationship with Edward, mostly because of the unwanted attention he'd suffer, but he'd claimed he could deal with that. I hadn't even thought about what dividing his attention to football might mean. His mom was right, Edward had so much on his plate, and I was only adding to it. Everything was made worse by the stress of our upcoming separation- he'd tried to hide it, but I knew Edward was worried about how hard being together long distance would be. And now he was hurt, and while it wasn't very bad, it could have been.

Tears began quietly running down my face as I realized what I had to do. Edward deserved so much better than this, and I was only causing problems for him.

I wiped at the tears halfheartedly and was standing up to leave when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I grimaced when I saw it was Rosalie.

"Hello?" I asked, trying to hide the tremble in my voice.

"What's wrong now?" she sighed.

"Nothing," I said harshly. "Is everything taken care of?"

"Yes, thanks to your brilliant manager. The guy from Spin magazine, the one who goaded you about Edward, will probably be fired tomorrow morning. The others were only too happy to cooperate once they saw how I dealt with him."

I rubbed my hand over my face once more and began walking down the hallway. The nurse at the reception desk motioned to me to close my cell phone and pointed to a sign that said you couldn't use cell phones inside the hospital, so I nodded and held up a finger.

"Look, Rose, I'm not allowed to talk in here. Just come get me and we'll head to San Fran tonight. On our way, you can yell at me and we can work out how to control what's coming."

"You're not staying with Edward?" she asked, surprised. "I thought for sure I wouldn't see you until I was dragging you away from his bed tomorrow morning."

My eyes teared up again. "No, we're leaving tonight. Come, now." With that, I hung up and smiled apologetically at the glaring nurse. She just shook her head and returned to her work.

I saw the gift shop down the other hallway, and headed that way. I had to break up with Edward, and leaving him a card was the best I could do right now… because if I had to talk to him, I knew I'd glue myself to his side and beg him to never leave.

He deserved better than that.

**AN: Thanks to everyone for their kind reviews! They make my day, truly.**

**Also, sorry this took so long. We went out of town for Christmas and I've just now returned to the real world. **

**PS- I know Carlisle and Esme seem very out of character, but bear with me. They're just very worried and stressed out about Edward. People say crazy things in this kind of situation.**


	14. Speechless

**Chapter 14- Speechless**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

EPOV

"And the 2009 Heisman trophy winner is…"

I took a deep breath and looked down at my feet, trying carefully to school my expression. If I did win, I knew my reaction would be fine; it was trying to hide my disappointment if one of these other guys got it. Not that they didn't deserve it, I just wanted it more.

At least, I used to, before Injurygate, also known as the night Lady Bella broke my heart. I refused to believe my Izzy Swan had broken up with me- I knew she loved me, that she understood how special what we had was. The person who hadn't even bothered to come see me in the hospital when I was injured and left me that heartless card wishing me a good life and much luck had to have been Lady Bella.

I hadn't thrown out the possibility that that bitch Rosalie had somehow forged the damn thing, either.

My mom told me it was for the best, that I had too much to worry about without worrying about a famous girlfriend, too. I told her that the rest didn't matter if I didn't have Bella, famous or not.

My dad told me that I should focus on making the decision to go pro or not, but he didn't understand it was already made. Once Bella had left me, there was no way in hell I could go back to USC. She was all over that place.

Emmett told me that Bella really was just looking out for me, doing me a favor, and that I should find a football groupie and fuck her out of my memory. I told him if he ever said that again, I'd cut his balls off.

My teammates looked at me and laughed, telling me I was crazy for thinking a pop star could be serious about me, and I should just be glad I could say that I'd fucked Lady Bella. I stopped talking to them completely, unless we were on the field.

The coaches told me to buck up and focus on the national championship game in a few weeks, which we'd finally been chosen for. I'd been cleared to play for it, since the concussion wasn't serious. This was one piece of advice I could follow, since playing was pretty much the only thing that didn't make me want to punch myself or someone else lately.

Rosalie told me, the one time I called her after Bella had ignored my calls for three days, that I should forget her phone number pronto, or else.

In short, I'd never felt more alone in my life. Nobody could grasp just how devastated I was. I was hurt beyond comprehension that Bella could take what we had and throw it away. That she could ignore me in the hospital and just drop me like a bad habit, with nothing but a cheap card to tell me goodbye. But I was also angry, so angry I felt like tearing shit apart, all the time. How dare she do that to me, after I was so understanding about the lying? The emotions were ever-revolving, swirling around in my stomach and making eating near impossible. This was bad for someone trying to make it onto an NFL team… and anyone who claimed to be a man. I was turning into a damned emo chick, trying to reconcile all my feelings with songs.

Except I couldn't even enjoy music anymore, because of her.

"… Edward Cullen!"

The crowd roared, standing up all around me, and I felt lots of hands pulling me up from my seat and slapping my back. I could barely comprehend that I'd done it- I'd won the most coveted award in college football. _Take that, Edwardina!_

I pasted a big smile on my face and made my way up to the podium. I hadn't prepared a speech, being too torn up to think positively enough, so I just had to wing it. I looked out in the audience and found my parents, sitting with Coach Carroll, and spoke to them.

"Thank you so much, for everything you've done for me. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you guys, helping me and encouraging me every step of the way." This immediately made me think of Bella, and how she'd said she'd known I would win, and my throat closed up. "Um… and I'd like to thank everyone who voted for me… and my teammates, who make me look good every Saturday…" I was seriously losing it, with a hundred cameras in my face flashing, my inane words being saved for posterity. "Um… and go Trojans!"

My face burned in embarrassment, and I smiled stupidly at the announcer who was looking at me like I was the village idiot. He recovered quickly though, and turned to the audience, saying, "Let's hear it again for Edward Cullen, 2009 Heisman trophy winner!" Everyone began applauding again, and I looked at my feet, shaking my head at my dumbass speech and stupid Bella who made me freak out. I hoped she didn't see this and see what a wreck she'd turned me into.

After we finally got to leave the ceremony, after several interviews in which I thankfully regained my vocabulary, and tons of pictures, my parents took me out for a nice dinner. I barely ate a bite, though I smiled and chatted throughout the meal. It was my family's first time in New York City, and I'd gotten to see quite a few of the sights. Of course, the only drawback was my involuntary wish that Bella were here, seeing everything with me. I saw Lady Bella everywhere, on magazine covers on every corner, and every time I felt punched in the stomach.

I got back to the hotel, dodging the paparazzi that had been camped out in front in hopes of seeing Bella with me, and spent ten minutes pacing around my room before I went and found Emmett in the hotel bar, who had come with me to New York but couldn't go to the ceremony due to limited seating. "Dude, I really need to get out of here tonight," I told him.

He grinned and slapped his hands together. "Well, hallelujah, Eddie! I've been waiting for you to ask me to help you out of your misery." He turned to the rather pretty woman he'd been chatting up and said, "My poor friend here recently had his heart ripped out by a heartless woman. I'm sorry, but he's gotta come first." She pouted her clearly enhanced lips, but he threw down enough to cover both their drinks and grabbed my arm. "Let's go."

We got in a cab and Emmett told the driver to take us "wherever the hot chicks are at," which meant we ended up at some new club called Eclipse. There were certainly a lot of very attractive people in line around the building, but as soon as the bouncer saw me, he let us right in.

"Congratulations, dude!" he yelled, shaking my hand and slapping me on the back. "You totally deserved it."

I just smiled in return and went inside. The hallway just inside the club was extremely dark, like maybe I couldn't see my hand in front of my face dark, and I wondered how many girls in high heels tripped in here. When we emerged into the large room that held the bar and dance floor, it really wasn't much brighter. There were a lot of strobe and neon lights though, reminding me vaguely of "Night at the Roxbury," and then I wondered when the 90's got distant enough that we could bring them back- they seemed like yesterday to me.

Emmett dragged me over to the bar and we promptly did two tequila shots each. I felt the burn of the hot alcohol sliding down my throat and prayed that just for tonight, I wouldn't have to think about Bella or Lady Bella or my ever-present pain.

Of course, as soon as I thought that, the current song ended and the DJ came on. "This song is brand new, just released by my girl, a New York City favorite, and I know it's going to be huge. Give it up for Lady Bella!" he yelled, and the first notes of "Bad Romance" began playing over the too-loud speakers. The crowd cheered and began dancing happily to the song that I knew was about me. How true the title seemed now.

I immediately felt sick. Emmett grabbed my arm before I fell over, and hauled me down the hallway to the bathrooms and out a side door so I could throw up the shots and the small dinner I'd forced down in the alley.

After a moment, I wiped my hand across my mouth and stood up straight. "Thanks, Em," I said, and leaned against the wall.

He just looked at me. I grew uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze and asked, "What?"

He shook his head. "I don't get it, dude. You're clearly hurting. I've _never_ seen you act this way, ever. Why haven't you gone after her?"

I laughed joylessly. "I only called her about a million times before the number became disconnected."

"You called her? Like, actually dialed her number? Wow, I can't believe that effort you put out there," Emmett said sarcastically.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" I asked angrily, shoving off the wall and taking a step toward him. "She's on tour!"

"Do you love her?"

"What kind of dumbass question is that? Have I ever _thrown up_ over a girl before?"

"Then why the hell aren't you in whatever middle America city she is in? You know Bella, you know she always thought being with her was going to get you hurt. She probably saw you get slammed, thought it was her fault, and broke up with you before she even thought it all the way through. And you let her."

I ran my hands through my hair, agitated. "What the hell would give you that idea, Em? She said we were both just too busy to make it work. It's not entirely a lie." _Even though I would have done whatever it took to be with her._

We stood there, quiet for a moment, the pounding bass from inside the club shaking the wall. A thought suddenly occurred to me, based on what Emmett had said, and I grew very still and glared at him. "Have you been talking to her?"

He shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground. "I may have spoken with Rosie once or twice."

"What the fuck?" I exploded. "And you didn't see fit to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, dude. She threatened my manhood if I said anything. But I can't handle seeing you like this. You're tearing yourself apart. You will be in no shape to play for the national championship like this."

"I don't give a rat's ass about the national championship right now," I sighed, deflating once more.

"You can't let your whole team down because you're too stupid to fight for your girl, Edward!" he yelled. "Play the game, then go find her. Convince her she's being dumb and get her to take you back."

I shook my head and began walking down the alley toward the main street. "If only it were that easy, Em."

~*~*~*~*~

I was lying on my bed in my dorm room, flipping through the channels and calming down after another grueling practice. It was Saturday, and the national championship game was the following Thursday. I was pushing myself way too hard, but nobody on the field was complaining. If anything, I was getting even more compliments on my performance. Everyone was jazzed, excited to whoop up on Florida in the national championship game at the Rose Bowl, right across town. We were practically on our own field, and nobody thought we would lose.

I landed on ESPN, interested in some of the other bowl games' scores, when they went to break. "Coming up next, we discuss Lady Bella's sudden decision to play during the halftime of the national championship game. Is it just because of Edward Cullen, or is she trying to reach a whole new demographic?" Rece Davis asked.

Mark May laughed. "I don't know if I can get into that stuff, no matter how good she looks. What is with those outfits?" The other two guys laughed and the program went to commercial break.

I sat up on my bed, stunned. Bella was performing in the middle of my game? Why would she do that? Did she have time in her tour schedule? Or was she planning this the whole time and just now announced it? Davis had said it was sudden, but I never knew Rosalie to make any quick decisions. She thought of the ramifications of everything, from what time an interview was to what color Bella's contacts were against the backdrop.

I felt completely messed up. How was I going to look at her, so close and so far away? My eyes narrowed. How was I going to handle all those guys looking at her, admiring her like Mark May just did?

I was still staring at the screen, now showing a pretty funny Geico commercial with Charlie Daniels in it, when there was a knock on my dorm room door. "UPS!" someone called from the other side.

I frowned in confusion and went to answer it. I hadn't ordered anything recently…

"Edward Cullen?" the UPS guy asked, holding out a small brown square.

"Yes," I answered, reaching out and taking it. There was no return address.

"Just sign here. Congrats on the Heisman, by the way. I'm rooting for you guys in the big game," he said, as I took the pen and signed his screen.

"Thanks," I replied, just wanting him to leave so I could figure out what the hell this box was. I really, really hoped it wasn't some weird fan gift. I'd received some teenage girl's training bra the other day, clearly used by the faint sweat stains, and I'd washed my hands about twenty times after I touched it.

He smiled and left, and I closed the door and returned to my post on my bed. I grabbed some scissors from my desk next to the bed and cut the box open, and Lady Bella's brand-new CD fell out. I knew it hadn't come out yet- I'd been obsessively checking the release date since I'd found out I inspired most of the songs on it- and it wasn't due for another few weeks.

There was a Post-It tacked to the cover.

_Edward-_

_ You probably don't want to listen to this, but just look at the liner notes. You might be surprised._

_ R_

What the fuck? Rosalie had sent this to me?

I ripped open the CD, cursing the nearly-impossible to get rid of tape down the sides, and flipped the case open. There was Lady Bella, looking completely gorgeous spread out seductively on a white grand piano. If I looked hard enough, I could see my beautiful Bella looking out from her heavily-made up eyes.

I sighed and pulled the liner notes out of the front cover. There were several pages, listing the lyrics to all the songs, and several pictures of Lady Bella in various crazy costumes. It was amazing to me how much imagination Bella had.

There was a new song in there, one she hadn't played for me before, called "Speechless." I read the words, and they were exactly how I felt toward her:

_And I know that it's complicated  
But I'm a loser in love so baby  
Raise a glass to mend  
All the broken hearts  
Of all my wrecked up friends_

I'll never talk again  
Oh boy you've left me speechless  
You've left me speechless, so speechless

And I'll never love again,  
Oh friend you've left me speechless  
You've left me speechless, so speechless

But why did _she_ feel that way? She was the one that left me…

I flipped further through the little book, and when I got to the back, I was expecting a long paragraph thanking any and every one who'd had a hand in getting Bella to this place in her career, like most musicians put in. However, there were just a few simple lines:

_To my inspiration, the man who made this album possible- I will always love you, no matter what. You give me the music, and the words, and I'm lost without you._

I read the words at least five times, scorching them into my brain. At first, my heart broke all over again, sensing the desperate loneliness in that last line. She missed me just as much as I missed her.

Then I was fucking _furious_. How dare she write that about me, after _she _left_ me_ lying in a hospital? She's the one who ended it, rather coldly I might add, and then she goes and tells the whole world she's lost without me?! What the hell is she playing at?

I threw the CD and its case across the room, and it shattered against my huge metal bookcase. I was instantly sorry, upset I'd destroyed the one piece of evidence I had that I hadn't dreamt the last couple of months. I suppose I could go out and buy another one, but I'd have to wait weeks…

I flopped back onto my bed and rubbed my hands over my face roughly. Bella was sending so many mixed signals I felt like I was back in middle school all over again, trying to figure out if my lab partner liked me. And why did Rosalie send me that? Was she _trying_ to make me cry? I mean, I'm a man, but I still have feelings, sheesh.

I had a sudden desire to see Bella, so I grabbed my laptop off my desk and hit it on. I went to youtube, certain there would be fan videos of her concerts, but they were all grainy and far away, even though her voice sounded as if she were in the room with me. Then I just Googled her name, hoping for some recent pictures, and there she was in a series of photos by some pap agency. She was shaking hands and greeting her fans before her concert in Seattle, but I could see the strain in her smile. There were bags under her eyes, and she looked impossibly thin. Maybe she'd lost the ability to eat, as well?

I closed the laptop and sat back, thinking. Clearly Bella wasn't doing well, either. Why was she putting us through this misery? Had Emmett been right in that alley in New York? Did she really think my injury was her fault somehow?

Well, fuck that.

I grabbed my Iphone and dialed Emmett. He was going to get Rose to talk to me, and I would tell her what she was going to do the night of the national championship.

I had a little less than a week to make the plans that would get my girl back.

**AN: We are in the home stretch, my lovelies! Sorry this one is so short, I'm really not good at writing heartfail. ****:(**

**What do you think he's going to do?**


	15. So Happy I Could Die

**Chapter 15- So Happy I Could Die**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

**AN: I know I usually leave these for the end, but I thought you should know: this is the first chapter I've done in both POVs. I thought they both deserved their say. There will be an epilogue after this chapter.**

BPOV

I sat at my piano on stage at sound check, idly tinkling random notes and letting my mind drift. I'd had less and less enthusiasm for performing, the more time passed from the moment I'd left Edward in that hospital. Turns out my prediction on that night at the Staples Center was wrong- it was _very _difficult for me to enjoy my music without Edward. In fact, it was hard to enjoy much of anything, anymore.

My costumes were getting looser, a fact Rosalie was oddly kind enough not to mention. My voice was getting weaker, which could be blamed on the wear and tear I was putting it through five nights a week, but was still worrisome. My body was my main instrument, and I wasn't taking good care of it.

We were in Phoenix, Arizona, but I only knew that because it was taped to the front of my piano so I wouldn't forget. I'd survived a whirlwind of cities, never seeing more than the inside of a hotel room, and we were just getting started. I had no idea how I was going to survive the next eight months, especially once we were overseas. I keenly felt the distance between Edward and I, and every step I took east only took my farther away. I felt like I was being ripped in two.

But it was my own fault. As Rose never ceased to remind me, I was the one who had ended things. He'd called my phone nonstop in the days following his injury, and I'd finally had to get a new phone number so I would stop being tempted to answer. I'd forbidden Rosalie to talk to him, as well. Nothing good would come of me caving. Sure, I was suffering, but he would suffer more in the long run if we were together. My life wasn't cut out for a companion, and I'd chosen it long before I met him.

"Bells? It's almost time to go get ready," Rose said softly, coming up to me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. There was yet another thing that had changed because of Edward- she wasn't nearly as mean or bossy as she'd used to be. She treated me like I was fine china, needing great care, and I hated it.

"Okay," I said flatly, standing up. I made my way back to my dressing room, stepping over wires and nodding at crew people. Once I got into the room, I stared without interest at the costumes I'd spent so long designing. Their beautiful colors and interesting shapes meant nothing to me now- nothing except as reminders of what I'd had to sacrifice for them.

~*~*~*~*~

Much later that night, I was lying in my hotel room in a comfy bathrobe, flipping through channels. I'd also had a hard time sleeping without Edward, and when I did manage it, I had horrible nightmares of him dying in a game or me being lost in blackness, calling his name futilely.

Being without him had turned my entire world upside down.

"What-" I wondered out loud, suddenly seeing Edward on the screen. At first I thought I'd just been thinking about him so hard that I'd manifested his image, but no, I was on ESPN. _Okay, you're not going crazy… yet._

"… and Edward Cullen was announced as the 2009 Heisman Trophy winner, to nobody's surprise. He was first in the country in completion percentage, and third overall in touchdowns…"

I muted the television, content to just look at him. God, he was so beautiful. He looked so happy standing on the stage, collecting his award, and my heart filled with pride for him. He so deserved it, and not just for his accomplishments on the field.

They took his picture away to flash his stats, and I was sad to lose him. I read the screen, not really understanding what everything meant, but glad for him anyway, until I got to the bottom: "Faces Heisman-winning Tim Tebow and the Florida Gators in the National Championship on Jan. 7th at the Rose Bowl."

I smiled. He was getting his dream! He would probably declare for the draft, then, considering it would be hard to top this season. My smile faded as I realized he could be anywhere in the country once I returned from my tour. I could find out, but it would only be for the purposes of torturing myself.

I wasn't going to see him, ever again.

~*~*~*~*~

I was letting Charlotte help me with my makeup when Rosalie came into my dressing room, some nights later. I think we were in Houston.

"So… you might get mad at me," she began, biting her lip nervously. Rosalie _never_ bit her lip nervously. This had to be bad.

I turned in my chair to completely face her, almost getting mascara swiped down my cheek. I narrowed my eyes at her. "What did you do?" I said lowly.

Her eyes darted all over the room, never looking at me. "I may have accepted an invitation to sing at a football game."

I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. "What football game?"

"Thenationalchampionship," she said, slurring it altogether, like saying it fast wouldn't make me realize what she'd said.

I flew out of the seat, nearly clocking Charlotte in the head with my flailing arms. "What?!" I screamed. "Are you joking?! Please tell me you're joking!"

She shook her head slowly, finally looking at me. My anger deflated as suddenly as it had come, seeing the sad, defeated look in her eyes. Rosalie pitied me.

"Why?" I asked quietly, my arms dropping to my sides.

She took a step toward me and grabbed my hands. "Because I see you falling apart before my eyes, Belly," she said pleadingly, using her old nickname for me that she knew I pretended to hate but secretly loved. She used it sparingly, when she really wanted something from me. "You're a ghost. I thought Edward would only distract you, but I see now that he _became_ you. He became what makes you tick, what inspires you. I shouldn't have let you throw that away."

I looked at the floor. "Don't you think I know that?" I asked quietly. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing it for Edward."

"But he's miserable without you!" she protested.

I looked up quickly. Her eyes were wide, like she'd blurted out something she knew she wasn't supposed to say. "How do you know? Have you spoken to him?"

She bit her lip again and paused. I stared her down. "No, I've been talking to Emmett," she answered finally. Her face bloomed, and I thought I should duck under the makeup table because the world was surely coming to an end- Rosalie Hale was blushing. But I would have to mess with her about that later- we were talking about something more important.

"What did he say?"

"He said Edward is a ghost, too. He barely eats, and is practicing like a machine. Emmett's not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he cracks."

"I know the feeling," I mumbled.

Rosalie gripped my hands harder. "That's why I asked if you could sing at the halftime show at his game. I know, once you see him again, you'll realize what an idiot you've been and beg him to take you back."

"I thought you accepted an invitation?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"I may have called in a few favors at the network to get them to issue an invitation," she answered sheepishly. "But you'll thank me for it, in the end."

I sat down in my makeup chair. "I don't know, Rose," I sighed. "I've hurt him so much. Even if I decide to be selfish- which I haven't- and beg his forgiveness, I don't know that he'll give it."

Charlotte snorted, and I looked at her, surprised. I'd forgotten she was even in the room. "Please, Bella. Have you seen how he looks at you? He looks at you like you're his big football trophy, a fat NFL contract, and a Playboy bunny rolled up in one. He will take you back like that," she said, snapping her fingers.

"I don't know how he looks at me anymore," I said sadly, turning to look at myself in the giant, well-lit makeup mirror. I really did look like a ghost- pale and scrawny, with dark bags under my eyes and sunken cheeks. He probably wouldn't even want me now.

"Well, we're going to find out," Rosalie said firmly. "We're lucky that the game is on one of your scheduled free nights, between Oklahoma City and St. Louis. You'll be flying practically nonstop for two days, but I figured you'd think it was worth it."

"I certainly hope so," I mumbled, reaching for the bronzer.

~*~*~*~*~

As I was riding from the airport to the national championship game, which was taking place at the Rose Bowl stadium in Pasadena, I picked at my fingernails nervously. What had seemed like maybe a good idea suddenly terrified me.

What was I doing, torturing myself like this?

I should have stuck to my guns and told Rosalie to cancel. I'd broken up with Edward to protect him. Asking him to try again was not protecting him- it was putting him back in harm's way!

And what about his parents? I'm sure their opinion of me has only declined since I overheard them in the hospital. They probably hate me now, and that does not bode well for a good relationship with Edward.

Never mind that whatever happened tonight would be broadcast into a bajillion homes. I didn't think I had the composure to perform if Edward said no.

_What if Edward said no?_

By the time we pulled up to a tunnel at the stadium, I was practically a basket case, trembling in my seat and chewing my lip raw. Rosalie had taken off the second we'd landed, claiming she had some business to take care of while we were in town, so I didn't have her to comfort me. Charlotte was with me, but she was looking out the window with wide-open eyes, taking everything in like we were in a foreign country.

"There are so many people!" she exclaimed.

"Mmm," I answered, feeling like I might explode, or throw up, or both. The driver opened the door for me, and I gave him a weak smile before I was approached by stadium security.

"Miss Bella?" a huge, burly man that reminded me of Emmett asked.

I nodded. "That's me."

"Right this way. There are twelve minutes left in the second quarter, and you're the second act, which gives you about twenty to thirty minutes to get ready," he told me, leading me down the tunnel. I felt marginally better as I realized there was no way I would see Edward and be possibly rejected before the halftime show. I looked back for Charlotte, and she had her camera phone out and ready, in case somebody more famous than me walked by. She'd spent half the plane ride looking up celebrity USC fans and debating which ones might show up.

"What's the score?" I managed to ask.

"USC is up 14 to 3," he answered, grinning widely. My mouth curved into an answering smile, pleased Edward was playing so well. He'd worked so hard for this moment.

I knew then that I couldn't possibly ask Edward for forgiveness. He'd clearly moved on enough to regain his playing prowess, and I couldn't take that away from him. I'd been right all along, no matter what Rosalie said or what it did to me- Edward deserved better. He deserved being with someone who he didn't have to worry about, someone who could cheer him on at every game. Someone who his parents didn't despise because she sang for a living. Someone who didn't invite the crazy paparazzi into his life.

I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to keep the tears at bay. _This was for the best, _I kept reminding myself_. This was for Edward._

The security guy led us to my dressing room, a media room that had been converted for my use tonight, and I quickly walked over to a TV in the wall and flipped it on.

"We need to get started on your makeup," Charlotte warned.

"Just a second," I replied.

And there he was, in all his Trojan glory. His uniform looked a little roughed up, but he was moving fine, throwing the ball with his perfect accuracy. USC was moving down the field toward the end zone, trying to score again, and I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't hurt anymore. I'd known it intellectually, but it was different seeing it in person.

"Come and sit down, you can listen to the game," Charlotte demanded. I stomped over to her and flopped down in a chair, angry I couldn't stare at him some more. "You'll get plenty of time to see him after the game," she reminded me. My stomach immediately went back into knots- it was one thing to see him on screen, and something completely else to see him in person. I wasn't sure I could withstand the electric draw between us if he were only feet away.

"Which costume did you finally decide on? I need to match your eyes," Charlotte asked.

"Umm… the blood-red dress," I answered. It covered me up the most, and I didn't want to feel Edward's burning eyes on my skin.

She laughed. "Yeah, right. Like you're going on television in front of a million people wearing a big red trash bag."

"It was good enough for the Queen," I defended.

"Well, you can't wear your normal hooker outfits in front of the Queen of England, duh. But in this situation, the less you're wearing, the better. It's a good thing this game is in LA, or you'd be freezing."

"Hooker outfits?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Quit stalling or I'll pick something for you." God, it was just like old Rosalie was here, bossing me around. I kind of missed it.

"Fine. I'll wear the black leotard with the metallic bra."

Charlotte smiled. "Good choice. Shows off your fabulous legs." She finished my makeup, which was extremely dark eyes shaped to look like Cleopatra's and very pale skin with lips shaped like Betty Boop's, and helped me twist my hair up into a short blonde wig cut into a bob. I waited to put on the costume until the last second, since I could barely breathe in it.

The big security guy from before came back and said it was time to go. I took in deep, calming breaths and forced Charlotte to hold my hand the whole way to the field, since I was now shaking at the thought of possibly seeing Edward, though I knew the team usually spent halftime in the locker room.

"Calm down. You'll be fine," she soothed as we stood at the edge of the field, where it was covered with a giant tarp to mask my appearance onstage.

"I'm not worried about performing," I said, slipping on my huge black sunglasses. I'd debated wearing them, but I knew I needed the additional barrier.

"I wasn't referring to that," she answered, and shoved me forward as the announcer called my name and the crowd began screaming. I stumbled a little in my high heels, but managed to stay upright and make it to my mic in the middle of the stage.

"Hello, football fans!" I yelled, trying desperately to slip into my Lady Bella persona. "How you guys doing?" They roared in response, and I smiled and signaled that I was ready for the music to begin. I closed my eyes briefly to try and focus once more, and then began to sing.

_Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah_

_Roma, roma-ma_

_Bella-ooh-la-la_

_Want your bad romance_

_I want your ugly, I want your disease_

_I want your everything as long as it's free_

_I want your love, love love love _

_I want your love_

I'd balked when Rosalie had told me what I was singing, but she'd pointed out that the song was blowing up the radio and I'd be stupid not to sing it. She was right, but singing it now, knowing Edward was watching me, knowing he knew it was about him, was tearing me up inside. I was barely holding myself back from falling over.

_You know that I want you _

_And you know that I need you_

_I want your bad, bad romance_

_I want your love and I want your revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_I want your love and all your lover's revenge_

_You and me could write a bad romance_

_Caught in a bad romance_

The words were so much more applicable now, it was almost amusing. It was like I knew when I wrote it that things wouldn't work out between us.

But I still wanted his love. I would even take his revenge. Anything to have him hold me again…

I choked on the next line, and the guy on the keyboards next to me looked at my funny. I really needed to get it together, or I wouldn't even make it through the song.

I tried my hardest not to look at the field, just the fans, but of course my traitor eyes succumbed to that Edward voodoo and found him like heat-seeking missiles. He was supposed to be in the locker room with the rest of his team, resting, but he was standing in the bottom of the tunnel directly opposite me, hiding from the crowd and just staring at me. I tried to look away as I sang the next lines, but I couldn't.

_I want your love and I want your revenge_

_I want your love, I don't want to be friends_

_I don't want to be friends_

_I don't want to be friends _

As I finished the song, much weaker than when I started it, the crowd went crazy. They must have thought I was just really into the lyrics or something- which I was, funnily enough- because I got a bigger response this time than I did on my tour. I wished I could enjoy it, but all I wanted to do was collapse onstage and curl into a little ball until everyone went away.

Edward gave me one last look, then turned and walked down the tunnel, out of my sight. I choked back a sob and tried to smile for the tons of flashes going off in front of me, but I knew it wouldn't look genuine.

Somehow I made it back to the media room-turned-dressing room, and I flicked the TV off with another sob. "What was I thinking?" I moaned, falling into a chair.

"Oh, honey," Rosalie sighed, gently removing my wig and rubbing my scalp with her fingernails. "It isn't that bad."

I hadn't even noticed she was waiting in the room when I'd returned. "Of course it is! Did you see the look in his eyes? He hates me!" I let the tears fall now.

"He doesn't hate you," she soothed. "Why don't you change into something more comfortable? I know that bra kills your breathing."

I wiped my eyes, dragging streaks of black makeup down my cheeks and onto my hands, and nodded pitifully. She helped me stand and I fumbled out of my costume and into a simple pair of skinny jeans and a USC sweatshirt. It wasn't Edward's, but I'd wanted to wear it to show my support. Now it was just good as something to wipe my snot on.

"Why don't you wash your face, Bells?" Rosalie asked softly.

I nodded again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I left the water on cold, hoping it would calm my flaming face, but the tears wouldn't stop. I had to get out of the stadium- hell, out of LA- as soon as possible.

As I walked back into the room, I saw Charlotte and Rose with their heads together, speaking quietly. "What's up?" I sniffled.

They jumped apart. "Are you better now?" Rose asked, coming toward me.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is something going on?"

Charlotte looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Rose looked equally guilty, though she hid it better. She laughed lightly. "What makes you say that?"

"If you're planning something to get Edward and I in the same room, forget it," I said, walking over and grabbing my carry-on bag. "I can't handle this anymore. I'm going to the airport right now."

"But our flight leaves in five hours!" Rosalie protested.

"I don't care. They can put me on an earlier one."

"But Emmett wanted to see you!" she tried again. I knew what she was doing now, I knew my heart couldn't take it.

I turned to face her. "Look, Rose, I appreciate you trying to help me. But it's done now. Done. I can't see him again."

"But he's got something for you!" Charlotte blurted, darting to stand in front of the door.

"Charlotte!" Rosalie yelled.

I looked back and forth between them. "Have you been planning something… with him?" I asked incredulously.

"Look, Bella-" Charlotte began.

"Charlotte!" Rosalie yelled again, trying to cut her off.

"No, Rosalie, she needs to hear this," Charlotte said forcefully. She turned to look at me, and there was no sympathy anywhere in her gaze. "The reason Rosalie left the airport before us was to hurry to your house and set it up so after the game, you would go there and see Edward. He has something important to say to you and I think you should hear him out. You never gave him the chance to speak last time," she reminded me.

"But-"

"I'm not done. He's been planning this for a week, trying to make it perfect for you. If a guy did that for me, I'd fall all over myself to get his ring on my finger so nobody else could snatch him up. You're an idiot if you leave LA without seeing him."

I just stared at her, shocked that Edward had planned something for me, and even got Charlotte and Rosalie in on it. It spoke volumes that Rosalie took his call at all.

"Is this true, Rose?" I asked, turning to her.

She nodded. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"What if I didn't want to go to my house?"

"Well, it was my job to make sure you got there. I had Charlotte ready to fake-call me as the fire department if you were being particularly stubborn," she said.

I shook my head. I was so confused. What did Edward want to say to me? Why was it so important that he got my manager and my assistant in on it? If he wanted to see me so bad, why did he give me that awful glare as he left the field? Did he just want to yell at me face-to-face, to get satisfaction from watching me crumble in front of him?

"Bella-" Charlotte began again.

"I'll go," I said flatly. If yelling at me is what it took to make Edward feel better and forget about me, I'd do it.

I'd do anything for him, even let him break my heart all over again.

~*~*~*~*~

EPOV

We won the game by a healthy margin, and it felt awesome, but my heart wasn't in it. Ever since I'd seen Bella up on that stage, captivating her audience, looking so fucking sexy in her little leotard, I hadn't been able to think of much else. Thank God Florida's defense decided not to show up this game.

I was accosted seconds after the game ended, by ESPN interviewers, my teammates, the coaches, and fans. I tried to smile for them, and I'm sure I must have told the interviewers something, but my mind had a single focus: get to Bella's house and get her back.

As soon as I thought it was possible, I ran off the field and into the locker room. It was deserted, since the rest of my team was still on the field celebrating, and I felt a little guilty that I wasn't with them. Not guilty enough to leave Bella waiting, however. I knew I only had a few short hours before she was back on a plane, headed to wherever to continue her tour.

I showered like Superman and rocketed out of the stadium and toward the parking lot where I'd told my parents to wait. I really hadn't wanted to get them involved in this, considering they'd made their feelings about Bella known, but there had not been another way- I'd been forced to ride with the team to the game, and didn't have my car.

As I approached their Mercedes, I saw my mom's disapproving look. "Can you just drive?" I asked. "Go left out of here."

"Aren't you going to celebrate with your teammates?" my mom asked caustically.

"There's plenty of time for that later. She's only in town another… three hours," I told her, looking at the dash.

She frowned at me over her shoulder as my dad maneuvered around the traffic. "I don't think this is a good idea, Edward."

I sighed. "Yes, you've said that, Mom. And I told you that I didn't care what you thought. She's my life."

"But-"

"Esme," my father cut her off, putting his hand on her leg. Eww. "You don't want to fight with your son the night he won the national championship, do you?"

"No," she grumbled. It was amazing, the effect he had on her- the relationship they had. I wanted that with Bella.

"Edward," my father continued, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Remember to stay calm. Women get ideas in their heads, and won't let go of them, and you can't let your emotions get the best of you."

"Carlisle!" my mom protested.

He just winked at me, and I smiled back. He was right, though- I would need to stay cool and collected while Bella went through whatever her reasons were for ending it with me, and why she left me that stupid card without even saying goodbye. Yelling at her would accomplish nothing, even if I did want to shake her really bad.

I directed my dad to her house, and my nerves began to overtake me again. Rosalie had said Bella was just as miserable as I was, and that she still wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. I just needed to convince Bella of that, which was no easy feat. She could be damned stubborn when she wanted to be.

When he pulled up, I took a deep breath and thanked them for the ride. "I'll see you at your hotel tonight," I said, praying it would be later rather than sooner.

They smiled at me- my mother's smile tight, but still there- and drove off. I turned to face the house I'd had so many great memories in, gathered my courage, and strode up to the door.

It opened before I could knock, reminding me of a happier time, but this Bella did not look pleased. She didn't look angry, though- mostly just defeated. "Bella?" I asked, barely recognizing her thin frame and dull hair and eyes. She was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

"Come in, Edward," she said softly. As I walked past, I caught a smell of her strawberry shampoo and was glad that at least some things hadn't changed.

I walked into the living room and turned to face her. She stopped at the entrance to the room, holding herself in the middle like she was afraid she'd fall apart if she didn't.

"Why did you leave me in the hospital?" I blurted out. Fuck. I'd planned on working up to that part.

She grimaced. "I knew if I saw you again, I wouldn't have the strength to leave you."

I let out my breath. Maybe Rosalie hadn't been mistaken…

"But that card? It hurt a lot, Bella. More than I have words for," I confessed, feeling a little girly but needing her to understand what she'd done to me. To us.

She wiped a tear from her eye, and my heart clenched, knowing I was hurting her. "I can see that," she finally said. "But I couldn't face going in there again. I knew I'd say something stupid, like that I was quitting my tour, or beg you to quit football, or yell at your parents."

Surely I heard her wrong. "Yell at my parents?" I asked.

"They hate me."

"How do you know that?"

"I overheard them in the hospital. Your mom said I was distracting you."

My head reeled with all this new information. She'd been at the hospital? She'd heard my parents?

_Is that why she left?_

"I thought you never came to the hospital," I said.

She looked up then. "Of course I did. How else did you think you got the card?"

I shrugged. "I thought maybe you had Rosalie drop it by or something. God, for awhile I even tried to convince myself Rosalie wrote it, but then you kept avoiding my calls…"

"Your parents were saying that I was bad for you. And I knew they were right. If it's not the paparazzi, it's distracting you during games. I could never forgive myself if-" she cut off in a sob- "if something happened to you." She wrapped her arms around herself harder and gazed at the floor, tears running down her cheeks.

I yearned to cross the room and take her in my arms. Clearly she thought she was doing me a favor, and I wanted simultaneously to curse her crazy thinking and thank her for being so selfless. "Bella, why didn't you talk to me about this? I would have told you you were being crazy."

"Which is exactly why I left you that card, instead of talking to you! You would try to be all macho, claiming nothing was wrong, nothing would happen. But you got hurt. And if even one percent of it was my fault, it's better if we're not together."

I took a few steps toward her. "Bella, you are always on my mind. You were before we even started dating, and you will be even if I never see you again."

"You'll get over it," she insisted, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

I stepped even closer. "No, baby, I don't think I will." I finally stood in front of her, and reached out to slip her hair behind her ear. "Have you gone into the music room?"

She looked up at me, confused. "No. I couldn't… I couldn't go in there. I can't even look at that piano right now."

I nodded, understanding. "Will you go there with me now?"

"Edward, I don't think that's a good idea."

I gently grasped her arms. "Please." I could see the fight in her eyes, part of her wanting to stick with her ridiculous plan, and part of her dying to give in to me. I knew just by looking at her our separation had affected her just as much as it had me, and I prayed, once she saw what I'd had Rosalie put together for me, that she would cave. I couldn't take it, having her this close only to lose her again.

"Come on, baby." I slid my hands down her arms to take her hands, and led her slowly into the music room. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she gasped, and I smiled widely. Rosalie had gone above and beyond what I'd asked.

There were tons of tiny tea lights everywhere, covering the piano, the desk, and all over the floor. There was a giant vase of calla lilies on the piano, too, the flower I'd given her on our first date. The pictures showing her transformation into Lady Bella had been brought in here and were propped against one wall, and pictures showing me going from normal Edward into Heisman-winning quarterback Cullen were propped along the next wall.

"Edward…" she breathed, taking it all in. "When did you do this? How?"

"Rosalie helped," I answered. "I gave her those pictures," I pointed to the football ones, "and she put everything else together while you were at the stadium."

She walked over to the pictures and stared for a long moment. "I love them. You look so… strong and capable," she said, giggling.

I sat down at the grand piano. "I wanted to show you that you aren't the only one of us that becomes someone else in the public eye. But between us, it will always be just Edward and Bella."

She turned to me, more tears in her eyes, and saw me at her piano. "What are you doing?"

I grinned my panty-dropping smile at her. "You aren't the only one of us who likes music, Bella."

"_What_?"

I played a few notes to warm up. "I never told you I won the Greater Chicago Young Pianist Competition three years in a row?"

Bella came over to me, looking shocked. "You definitely didn't."

"Well, then, prepare to be amazed." I took a deep breath, more nervous than I'd let on, and began the song I'd written for her. I wasn't a composer, really- I'd much rather play other people's compositions- but I'd had a week to try and come up with something that conveyed my feelings for her. I wanted to show her that we were more alike than she thought. She was a musician, and she would respond to my music. She had to.

Halfway through the song, she sank down onto the bench next to me, just gazing in wonder at my hands. It made me even more nervous, since she was so talented, but I just closed my eyes and let the music flow from me.

When I was finished, it was very quiet. I opened my eyes, and Bella's face looked like Niagara Falls, there were so many tears. "Bella?" I asked concerned.

"You wrote that?" she got out.

I just nodded.

"For me?"

"It's all for you, Bella," I said softly, taking one of her hands in mine. Unfortunately, what I thought was a pretty romantic statement must have been wrong, because she began sobbing. "Bella? What's wrong? Please, baby, did I hurt you?"

She shook her head wildly, but kept sobbing. Like, snot running down her face, body shaking, loud sobbing.

I had no idea what to do but hold her, so I did that. I reached out and picked her tiny body up and sat her on my lap, wrapping my arms around her. "Shh," I soothed, praying she would quit crying and say something. My heart was in my throat waiting for her reaction- I really didn't want to think of what it meant if this was it.

She finally calmed down to a few hiccups, but I kept rubbing her back and making nonsense noises for a few minutes until she finally said, "Are there any words?"

"No," I said, blushing. "I'm not good with lyrics like you."

She pulled back to look at me. "I was just going to say that it didn't need any. Your feelings came through, loud and clear."

"And…?" God, I thought I was going to die from waiting.

She smiled tremulously. "And I still love you, too."

I didn't say anything, I just grabbed her face and kissed her, hard. I didn't care if she was all wet and snotty from crying- she was mine and she finally realized it and I wasn't letting her go. I shoved my tongue in her mouth and her little hands grasped my shoulders, pulling me even closer. I felt myself harden under her ass and she moaned into my mouth.

"Edward, I know there is still a lot left to say," she said, wrenching her lips from mine. "But I would really appreciate it if we skipped all that right now and you took me to my room and ravished me."

I groaned. "But aren't you going to be late?"

She leaned in and kissed me again. "I'll take a later flight," she said against my lips.

That was all I needed to hear.

I stood up, carrying her with me, and strode out of the music room and into her bedroom. I threw her on the bed and began stripping quickly, while she wiggled out of her clothes, tossing them everywhere. We both knew that soft and slow wasn't on the table right now- I needed to feel her, all over, as soon as possible, and she needed the same from me.

As soon as we were both naked, I jumped on her, holding my weight on my arms. She squealed and bounced under me, bringing our skin together, and we let out moans. "I've missed you so much," she breathed, latching her lips onto my collarbone.

"Me, too, baby," I replied, running my hands up and down her smooth curves.

I brought my hands up to her face and forced her to let go of my neck so I could kiss her properly. She thrust her tongue in my mouth, dueling with my tongue, and I savored her taste like it was nectar. I bit her lower lip and she moaned, just like I knew she would.

"Edward, please," she murmured against my lips, her hips straining against mine. I reached down to be sure she was ready- God, she was so _wet_- and I shoved into her with one quick stroke.

"Fuck!" she yelled, throwing her head back.

I began moving, hard and relentless, and the noises erupting from her were better than any music she'd ever produced. My mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking hard, and she pushed her hands into my hair, holding me to her.

I could feel my orgasm building quickly, and I knew from experience that Bella was close, too. "Come with me," I urged her, and slid a hand down to begin rubbing her clit.

"Oh, God, Edward," she moaned, and I felt her walls tighten around my cock. That was it for me, too, and I yelled her name as I pumped into one last time.

I collapsed to the side, breathing heavy, and Bella immediately rolled so she was plastered against my side, one leg thrown over mine. I wanted to put my arm around her, or say something, but I physically couldn't- I was seriously seeing stars.

"Edward?" Bella finally asked.

"Yes?"

"Can we do that again? I mean, slower this time. I have about an hour before I have to leave for the airport." She waved her Blackberry in the air, and I assumed Rosalie had texted her the information. I hadn't even heard the little chime signaling a text, I was so out of it.

I turned my head to look at her. "Only if you promise me things aren't going back to the way they were."

She shook her head. "No, we are definitely back together. I don't think I could handle much more of that. And did you see how those little cheerleaders were looking at you? God, I wanted to rip their hair out."

I smirked at her. "That's not what I meant."

"What do you mean, then?" she asked, clearly confused. She sat up, and my body missed the contact.

"Bella." I waited until she turned to face me, and I reached out to cup her face in my hand. "I meant, I don't want to go back to being second place to your music. And I don't want to go back to putting you second place to football."

She turned away, and waited a long time before responding. "Edward, I am Lady Bella. I will always be Lady Bella. And you will always be a Heisman-winning quarterback. That's just how it is."

I sat up so I could face her properly. "Yes, you perform for a living. I will play football for a living. But that's not who we _are_. That's what we _do_. Who I am, who I want to be, is the man that loves Isabella Swan. It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that."

She looked up at me then, and I saw the doubt swimming in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what we say here, Edward. The world isn't going to change. We will always face public scrutiny, and we will always be accountable to our fans. Kids look up to us. Especially you."

"Then why can't we model a loving relationship for them, too? Why am I not allowed my own happiness? Because I'm good at throwing a football around, and you're good at making music, that makes us slaves to the public will?"

"That's just how it is," she repeated sadly.

"That's how you are letting it be," I said, getting off the bed. "I don't care what the world says, I care what you say. And if you say that your music will always come first, that's fine. It's good to find out now, rather than get back together only to have my heart broken again in six months." I picked up my pants to put them on, trying to hide the pain I knew was covering my face.

She flew off the bed to me, and wrenched my pants out of my hands. "Edward, I would give up music in a heartbeat if you asked me to. I don't have music anymore without you." I opened my mouth to respond, but she held a hand up to stop me. "But you're dreaming if you think that saying 'I put you first' is going to forestall any problems down the road. There will be times when I want to be at your game and I can't because I'm performing, and there will be times when you want to cook me dinner but can't because you have practice. We will just have to hope that there will be less of those times than times when we are together, loving each other."

I stared at her. She was right, I knew it, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow. I wished, not for the first time and certainly not the last, that we were just a normal couple, facing rent and grocery decisions rather than paparazzi and interviews.

"Please, Edward. Don't leave. Come back to bed and let me show you how much I love you, how much I missed you." She reached out and pulled on my hand, and I let her lead me to the bed.

"This isn't going to be simple, is it?" I asked, lying back down with her.

"No. But I'll take you over simple any day."

I agreed, and we spent the next hour sealing our agreement.

**AN 2: And there we have it, folks. I'm sorry it took so long, but I agonized over this chapter, for reals.**

**Anything you want to see in the epilogue? I really don't want to do babies, but if that's what the public wants…**


	16. Beautiful, Dirty, Rich

**Epilogue- Beautiful, Dirty, Rich**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, and Lady Gaga owns her music and weird costumes. I own the rest of this.**

BPOV

"Rosalie, calm down," I told her, putting my hand on her bouncing knee.

"I can't help it. All this silver and blue is making me antsy," she said, looking around the huge stadium. I smothered a laugh and pointed out a group of the visiting team's fans, down in a corner.

"Look, there's some green for you."

She looked and huffed. "Not enough. And must you make it worse by wearing that God-awful jersey?" she asked, pointing at my number nine jersey. "Besides the colors being terrible for your skin tone, it's as big as my house."

I smiled and pointed at the incredibly snug child's jersey she was sporting. "You're wearing one, too."

"Yes, but mine fits me. And an Eagles jersey is always preferable to a Cowboys one," she said, shuddering dramatically.

We were sitting in an extremely nice suite in the Cowboys Stadium, which still sparkled like new five years after it was built, waiting for the start of the game. Edward's team, the Dallas Cowboys, was playing Emmett's team, the Philadelphia Eagles, in the first game of the playoffs. I'd had to bribe Rosalie with a sneak peek at the music I've been working on to get her to sit with me, and swear I wouldn't tell Emmett. She claimed he'd have a heart attack if he knew his jersey was anywhere close to a "damn Cowboys piece of shit."

The Eagles ran onto the field, and I yelled for Emmett even though I knew the loyal Cowboys fans (mostly players' wives and girlfriends) sharing our suite would glare at me. When they finally announced the Cowboys, and they ran onto the field, I stood and screamed my heart out. Rosalie looked at me disapprovingly for abusing my voice like that, but I just smiled and continued cheering. My beautiful man was on the field, and getting to watch him play was not a usual treat for me, so I was going to enjoy it.

He'd been drafted to the Cowboys as the fourth pick overall in the NFL draft, the exact same week "Bad Romance" was certified triple platinum. I'd been on tour in Europe at that point, but I congratulated him very nicely that night on Skype. He'd been here in Dallas ever since, and I tried to spend my downtime from recording and touring here with him, but up until recently, that hadn't been very often, and mostly not during football season. Of course, that meant the tabloids were constantly reporting our breakup, or Edward's infidelity with a cheerleader, or my cheating with a dancer. It was difficult at first, but we'd learned to trust each other and ignore the paparazzi for the most part. It didn't stop them from following us, though- we were one of the most recognizable couples on the planet, unfortunately.

When the game started, Rosalie and I kept one eye on the humongous screen and on eye on the sheet music I was showing her. I must admit, I was a tad nervous to show her this new material- it was completely different than anything I'd done before. My first three albums had been dominated by dance tracks, but lately I'd been inspired in more of a ballad and bluesy direction.

We heard the telltale sound of pads and metal clanking against each other, and both of us turned to ascertain whether or not one of our boys was a part of the hit. The Cowboys offense wasn't even on the field, and Emmett had been blocking someone else. We both breathed sighs of relief and returned to the music. While being with a pro football player had inured me to the inevitable injuries, I still cringed every time Edward was hit, and I'm sure Rose felt the same about Emmett.

"I like this, Bells," she finally said, after glancing through all of the sheets I'd brought.

"Really?" I asked, still insecure in this new direction.

"Absolutely," she said, nodding. "I'd really love to hear it, of course. But these lyrics are extremely personal. Maybe more personal even than your first album with Edward." I nodded my agreement and she gave me a searching look. "Where is this coming from, Belly? Is everything okay with you and Edward?"

"Oh, yeah, everything is great," I said, trying my hardest to sound casual. And really, I wasn't lying, per se. Everything was great, as far as Edward knew. We were still in as much in love with each other as when we were back at USC. It helped a lot that I'd decided to take a year-long sabbatical from the music scene recently, to rest and rejuvenate my flagging creative juices, and I was living here with him in Dallas.

But I was growing restless. We'd been together for five years now and Edward still hadn't asked me to marry him. I knew he loved me, that was never in question, and I knew he was also five years younger than me, so maybe it hadn't crossed his mind yet. We certainly hadn't really talked about it. But I couldn't help but wonder, if he was so committed to me, why he hadn't decided to make it official. I wanted his ring on my finger more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life, including a Grammy. And I'd wanted that _bad_.

"How's everything with Emmett?" I asked, trying to get Rosalie to stop looking at me like that.

She let me know with her cocked eyebrow that she'd noticed my attempt at deception, but decided to let it go for now. "Wonderful. We're very happy in Philly and I think we're going to move out of his condo and into a house."

"That's great, Rose!" I said, happy for her. "And how is the wedding planning going?" I asked, forcing my face to keep calm.  
She smiled. "Well, I'm glad we're finally doing this," she began, stirring my jealousy. "But it's so stressful! Between his mother and my mother and what the two of us want, it's a big mess. Em doesn't really understand what the big hullabaloo is- he says he's fine if it's just him and me- and I'm starting to agree with him, and my mom is about to kill us."

"I can only imagine," I said, picturing Rosalie's tiny ex-supermodel mom hitting Emmett over the head.

"Seriously, Bells, if you and Edward ever decide to get married, you should run away to Vegas or Mexico. I would do it now, if we hadn't spent so much money on down payments for everything," she added.

I forced a smile and let her go on about colors, and what dress she wanted me to wear, and where Emmett was taking her for their honeymoon. I pretended to listen, but mostly looked at the field and tried to distract myself. There was Newton, the loser tight end who hit on me at pretty much every players party; there was Crowley, the nice receiver who helped Edward when he was drunk that one time on the road; there was Tanya Denali, the bitchy head cheerleader who never made her crush on Edward a secret…

The game flew by with a handy Cowboys win, and before I knew it, Rosalie and I were waiting for Edward and Emmett back at Edward's house. We had plans to go out tonight to a couple of bars in Dallas, because Edward had become interested in investing in the restaurant scene. I was proud of him for thinking so intelligently about his future- I mean, let's face it, he can't play football forever.

Why couldn't he think about _our_ future?

We were sitting in the living room, drinking glasses of wine and chatting about how to handle Edward's happiness versus Emmett's sadness over the game, when Rosalie stopped talking and looked at me for a full minute.

"What?" I finally asked, crinkling my brow in confusion. "Did I spill some wine on my dress?"

"Don't think I forgot about what we were talking about at the game, Bells," she said ominously.

I sighed. "What do you mean?"

"This music you're writing now- it's very deep and beautiful. Some of it is even melancholy. Very different than the whole Lady Bella persona."

"That's why I'm worried about it," I said, biting my lip. "But this is what I'm inspired to write these days."

"Don't be worried about the music. It's great. Probably your best stuff. But it won't play as Lady Bella. Maybe… maybe it's time to hang up Lady Bella for awhile?"

I frowned at her. "Like come up with a new character? God, Rosalie, I spent years on Lady Bella before debuting her. I don't want to even think about coming up with someone else."

"No, no. I meant you could be you, for once." She took another sip of wine and let that thought stew for a moment.

Huh. I'd never thought of that. I'd been Lady Bella for so long, dividing my life into two distinct realms… it hadn't ever crossed my mind that I could make music as Bella Swan.

Before I could respond, however, the guys arrived. "Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Emmett called from the foyer.

"This isn't your home, dumbass," Edward said, and we could hear him punching Emmett all the way in the living room.

They came in and crossed to their respective partner, Emmett jumping on Rosalie on the couch while she squealed about spilling wine while Edward simply leaned down to give me a sweet kiss. "Hey, you," I said, grinning up at him. He looked so handsome, in his dark slacks and black-and-silver striped dress shirt. I would never get over just how beautiful he was, and I didn't ever want to.

"Hello, gorgeous," Edward responded. He reached down, took my wine glass from me and set it down on the coffee table, then grabbed my hands and pulled me up. "Better," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist before dipping his head to kiss me deeper.

"Get a room!" Em called from his perch on Rosalie.

"This looks like a room," Edward retorted, before kissing me again. I smiled against his lips and pulled away.

"Are you ready to go?"

He smirked. "Can't you tell?" he asked, popping his collar like a frat boy. "Don't I look _fly_?"

Rosalie and I laughed. "Baby, you aren't in college anymore," I reminded him.

"I know. Isn't it sad?" Edward said, fake pouting.

Hmmm. Maybe I was right, thinking he was much too young to be in the marriage mindset…

I didn't want to think of further implications of that. I forced another smile- it seemed like a common theme today- and grabbed his hand. "Let's get going. I need a drink."

~*~*~*~*~

EPOV

I was sweating like a damn pig. This bar seemed to think that a great way to keep people drinking was to keep the heat cranked up to Amazonian rain forest levels, and it was certainly working. I was on my fourth scotch and water in an hour, and I knew Bella was downing Long Island Iced Teas like they actually were water. I would be worried about her, if I wasn't freaking out enough all on my own.

But I needed both of us to slow down. I didn't want the night I finally proposed to my girl to be clouded with booze, did I?

I reached for my drink and drained it at the thought. Why was I so fucking nervous? I mean, it wasn't like I was unsure of spending my life with Bella- she'd been it for me the second I sat down next to her in class all those years ago. And I was fairly certain she'd say yes- I knew she loved me, and if she thought I didn't notice her longing glances at Rosalie's giant bling, she was mistaken.

I guess it was because I wanted everything to be perfect for her. I wanted tonight to be a night she could tell our family and friends about, and nobody would laugh at dumb Edward's crappy proposal. I wanted her to wear my ring proudly, and tell all those fuckers who constantly flirted with her at her concerts that she was permanently taken, thank you very much. I wanted…

I wanted Bella to quit rubbing up on Rosalie on the dance floor! When did they leave the table? Why didn't Bella get me? What- _Fuck_, Rosalie was completely wrapped around Bella, her front to Bella's back, and she was practically groping Bella's boobs. Bella's incredibly short dress was riding up her thighs, and I could swear I saw the line of her underwear! My eyes nearly bugged out of my head at the sight, and I knew any guy in the room who was watching them had tight pants just like me. Clearly, I needed to quit spacing out at bars and pay more attention to my girl.

"Fuck…" I heard Emmett mumble next to me, his eyes glued to them, and I growled with jealousy.

"What the fuck are they doing?"

Emmett shrugged, never taking his gaze off the girls. "I don't know, and I don't care, as long as they keep doing it. Who knew Rosie had those moves?"

"You don't care? You don't care that every guy in here is about to bust a nut to your woman?!"

He turned to me, looking surprised at the vehemence in my voice. "You should calm down, Eddie. We both know who they're going home with tonight, so no worries."

"No worries? They're giving everybody a damn peep show!" I left the table and stomped over to Bella, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from Rose.

"Hey! I was having fun!" Bella cried, hiccupping halfway through. She tried to squirm out of my grasp, but just ended up drunkenly tangling her legs together and tripping. She fell into me instead of the bodies around us, thankfully, and I hauled her up. She was clearly trashed, and the need to take care of my woman sobered me up quickly.

"I think it's time to call it a night," I said, leading her slowly back to the table to grab our stuff.

"The party just got st-st-started," Bella whined.

"Come on, let's go home."

We got to the table, where Emmett was snuggling with Rosalie. "Rose! Let's dance some more!" Bella squealed, reaching for her.

"I have no problem with that," Emmett said, grinning. I shot him a glare and grabbed Bella's purse and jacket.

"Let's go home, Bella."

She wrenched her arm out of my grasp. "It's not my home!" she yelled, causing several people standing around to look at us.

"What are you talking about?" I hissed, stepping closer to her.

"It's not _my_ home, is it? It's your home!" With that, she started crying, huge loud sobs that made everybody around us look at me like I was beating her. I even saw a few guys start to make their way over.

"Come on," I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the bar. I was so confused, I almost missed the exit. _What the fuck was that about?_

We stumbled outside, Bella leaning on me heavily and still crying, and several flashes went off.

"Edward! Bella!"

"Did he hit you, Bella?"

"What happened?"

"Are you guys breaking up?"

The paparazzi swarmed us, and I cursed out loud. How did they find us here? We were in fucking Dallas, for Christ's sake!

I pulled Bella over to the valet stand and offered the teenager manning it an extra fifty if he got my Vanquish here ASAP. He smiled and took off running into the garage, and I tried to protect Bella from the incessant cameras by wrapping my arms around her, but she yanked herself away and kept on sobbing. Her makeup was running down her face in streaks and I sighed, thinking of the headlines tomorrow. Or tonight, knowing TMZ.

My car finally arrived, and I got Bella inside without too much of a fight. As soon as I sat down, I took off down the street, leaving the paps in the dust.

Bella's crying had calmed down to mostly sniffles, and I grabbed a napkin out of my glove box and handed it to her. She whispered a small thank you and wiped her face.

After several long minutes, I finally got the nerve to ask, "What was that all about, Bella?"

She stayed silent, just staring at the city lights rushing past the window.

"Bells?" I tried again.

"Can we just get to your house, please? I just want to go to sleep."

I sighed heavily and didn't try to say anything the rest of the night. Looks like my proposal plan went swimmingly.

When we got home, I helped Bella out of the Vanquish and upstairs to my bedroom. She stripped and washed her face, then collapsed into my bed and rolled herself up into a little ball. I knew she was back to crying, and I felt completely helpless.

I undressed myself and went downstairs to grab a glass of water and some ibuprofen to put on her nightstand for when she woke up. She was asleep when I returned, and I kissed her head softly before slipping into bed next to her. I didn't try to hold her like usual, and fell asleep wondering what the hell had gone wrong.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed. After brushing my teeth to get rid of the God-awful scotch taste, I went downstairs and found Bella sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, staring out the window at my backyard.

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly, in case her hangover was really bad.

She didn't turn around. "Fine, I guess."

I crossed the room to take the seat across from her so she'd have to look at me. "Are you ready to talk about last night, then?"

She grimaced and took another sip of coffee. "It's all over the Internet. We're breaking up again, according to most of them, although _US Weekly_ says I was crying because I'm so upset I can't drink anymore because I'm pregnant."

I grabbed her free hand. "That wasn't what I was talking about, Bells."

"I know." She finished her drink and got up to wash out her cup, and I was trying my hardest to be patient. After she'd wiped her hands on the dish towel, she finally turned to face me, and the look on her face made me extremely worried.

"What are we doing, Edward?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Where are we going with this? Am I going to stay here until my year is up, then go back to LA while you stay here? Are you still thinking of asking to be traded to the Jets, so we can live together in New York?"

"Well… um… I haven't really thought about it," I hedged. Fuck! She was going to think I was wishy washy about our future, and if I'd just gotten to propose last night, I wouldn't have to make shit up… I wanted it to be a surprise, dammit!

She sighed again and turned around. "That's what I thought," she said softly. Well, shit. She _did_ think I was wishy washy about us.

I stood and walked to her, standing right behind her and wrapping my arms around her. She didn't move.

"Baby, you know I just want us to be together, no matter what," I said, hoping it was enough to end the conversation for right now.

"I don't know if that's enough anymore," she said, after a long moment. She moved to get out from my arms, but I didn't budge. I grabbed her waist and turned her around to face me.

"Well, you've gone and forced me to do this," I said, sighing. "Just remember that I had something much better planned, and don't hate me for it."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

I got down on one knee and grabbed the ring box out of my sweats pocket. She gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth.

"Bella, I've wanted you from the moment I saw you. These past five years with you have had their ups and downs, but I can't imagine anyone I'd rather face either with. You're my reason for everything, and I don't want to ever let you go." I opened the box and showed her the ring I'd gotten from Esme, my grandmother's ring. She gasped again, and tears began running down her cheeks.

"This isn't how I pictured it, but as usual, you've changed my plans for me," I said, laughing. She laughed a little and reached out to grab the box from me. "Isabella Marie Swan, will you make me the happiest man alive and consent to be my wife?"

She gazed at the ring, holding it close to her face. My knee started to ache on the tile floor so I stood and wrapped my arms around her waist. "Bells?"

She looked at me then, and her eyes shone with love. "Of course, you stupid man! I thought you didn't want to marry me!"

I laughed hard then. "It's not funny!" she said, hitting me.

"You're right, it's not. How could you possibly think I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you?" I asked, taking the box from her so I could slip the ring on her slender finger.

Once it was on, she threw her arms around my neck. "Well, you weren't asking."

I rolled my eyes. "Impatient, much?"

"Hey! I would like to at least have a ring on my finger before even more magazines accuse you of knocking me up. My parents ask questions, you know. They aren't getting any younger."

"Is that something you want?" I asked, seriously.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You mean kids?"

I nodded. I knew she was right in that ticking-biological-clock age range.

"I mean, I've thought about it," she said, placing her small hand on my cheek. "I would love to have children with you, one day. Maybe in a couple of years. What about you?"

"Of course I want babies with you! Think of how hot they'll be, with my hair and your eyes."

She shook her head. "No, my hair and your eyes."

I smiled. "Whatever. As long as they're healthy and they're ours."

She smiled back mischievously, and reached down to grab my hand. "I say we start practicing now. Plus, there's an engagement we need to celebrate."

I grabbed her around her legs and threw her over my shoulder, and she squealed. I jogged up the stairs and threw her on our bed. "You're absolutely right, Bella." Then I jumped on her.

She squealed again, and I spent the rest of the day making sure Bella screamed several more times after that.

**AN: Well, that's it, folks. There won't be a sequel, since I feel like this story has played itself out. Like I said back in the beginning, just a simple love story with a happy ending!**

**Thanks for reading, and all the kind reviews. You guys made my day! :) **


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